


Lost in Translation

by Cleonali



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, American!Akaashi, Angst, Anxiety, Car Accidents, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-08-01 07:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16280645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleonali/pseuds/Cleonali
Summary: In which Akaashi decides to study abroad in Japan for a year and meets an eccentric volleyball player.





	1. Tokyo

Akaashi hadn’t been to Tokyo since he was very young. He was excited, at first, to see the city where he’d been born, the city where his parents had lived. Little memories had stuck with him through the thirteen years since he’d gone to live with his grandmother in America. Sitting on a park bench in the summer, eating mochi with his father. His mother racing him to the bus stop on his first day of school, letting him win even on his short legs. Her smile as he waved to her from the bus window. They were all good memories, except for one.

The one that kept him up at night.

He called his grandmother as soon as the plane touched down, the other passengers already retrieving their bags from the overhead bins. They all seemed eager to get off after the nearly twelve hour flight, but a nervous fluttering in his stomach kept Akaashi in his seat for a bit longer. His grandmother did not pick up right away, and he wondered if she was asleep. There was a sixteen hour time difference between them now after all.

“Keiji?” her familiar voice finally came through. He breathed a sigh of relief, a little bit of the tension loosening from his shoulders. 

“Did I wake you?” Akaashi asked, watching the other passengers slowly make their way down the aisle, eyes drowsy from dramamine. He wondered if he looked the same way.

“No, I was just watching the game shows before bed,” she assured him. He could imagine her lounging in her recliner back home, feet propped up in the fuzzy pink slippers he’d bought her last Christmas. “Did you make it to Tokyo?”

“I hope so,” he joked, finally standing up in the now-empty aisle. His bag was the only one left in the bins, the same duffel he’d used for volleyball competitions in high school. All his former teammates had signed the strap in silver sharpie, and he hoped they would still remember him when he returned next year. 

He finally made his way up the aisle, the last one off the plane. As he walked through the terminal, his grandmother recited the address of the house he’d be staying at, her tongue tripping over the foreign words. Akaashi already had the address saved on his phone, but he let her tell him again anyway, her voice a familiar comfort as he traversed an unfamiliar environment. 

The airport itself was much the same as the one he left in America, except for the words covering the walls on advertisements and departure boards. Akaashi could speak Japanese, but he hadn’t grown up there long enough to learn to read or write. It was only thanks to the English translation under many of the signs that he found his way towards customs.

“I have to go through security now,” Akaashi said, interrupting his grandmother as she repeated the university address a fifth time. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, Keiji. Be safe! I love you.”

“Goodbye, Grandma. I love you, too.”

~

An hour later and Akaashi was finally outside the airport, wishing he’d had the foresight to pack an umbrella. Rain fell in fat drops that flattened his curls and drenched his clothes as he pulled his suitcases behind him. Dozens of cabs were pulled up outside the front doors, and it wasn’t difficult to find one that would take him in. 

He gazed out the cab window at the city around him, amazed by how busy it was. Crowds of people hurried along the sidewalks, crossing streets in throngs with none of them ever seeming to reach their destination. There were more street lights in one block than in the entire town where Akaashi had grown up, and the rain on the window made their colors bleed together like paint. Tokyo reminded him of how New York City looked on TV, with tall buildings and endless traffic. He was slightly disappointed that it didn’t look more familiar. The first five years of his life seemed to be slipping away with each building they passed, taking any memory of his parents with it.

They eventually turned out of the busier side of Tokyo, heading towards the residential area where Akaashi’s host family lived. He was suddenly nervous as he thought of the people who he would be living with for the next eight months. It had taken his friends back in America a long time to warm up to him when they’d first met, and he worried that his hosts wouldn’t respond well to his quiet demeanor. He remembered the nickname that had followed him all throughout high school. 

Stone Cold Keiji.

His phone vibrated, giving him a necessary distraction from his thoughts. He looked down at the message from his old volleyball captain, whose use of emojis obviously hadn’t lessened since graduation.

_Have fun in Tokyo! Don’t stop practicing while you’re away, or else!_

Akaashi sent a picture of himself giving a thumbs up in response, the city twinkling behind him through the back window. 

~

“Akaashi! You’re absolutely soaked!” the woman before him gasped in horror at the sight of the boy dripping on her doorstep. 

“I’m sorry, Kozume-san,” he apologized, bowing his head. His Japanese was a bit rusty as he racked his brain for the right words. “I didn’t think to bring an umbrella—”

“You poor boy! Wait here and I’ll bring you a towel.” The woman disappeared back into the house and Akaashi was left on the doorstep to admire the flowers lining the front walkway. Someone had obviously taken very good care of the plants, each pot overflowing with rich green leaves. His grandmother liked gardening, but she always managed to kill nearly everything she touched. 

“Here you are, dear.” Kozume-san returned with a fluffy red towel, wiping at his cheeks a bit before handing it to him. “Kenma! Akaashi-kun is here!” 

“Thank you,” Akaashi mumbled, startled by the woman’s hospitality. He had just finished drying off and removing his shoes when a shorter man with bleached blond hair came down the stairs. His eyes were glued to a gaming device, fingers flying across the buttons with precision.

“Kenma, put the game down and say hello!”

The man’s eyes flicked up to Akaashi’s for a moment before returning to his game, his head nodding slowly. “Nice to meet you, Akaashi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Akaashi said quietly, secretly relieved that the man didn’t seem too lively.

“You’re not the talkative type, are you, Akaashi-kun?” Kozume-san asked, laughing a bit at his blank expression. “You and Kenma should get along just fine then. He’s always been a bit shy.”

“Mom, please,” Kenma grumbled, glancing up at the woman with a pained expression. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll let you show him his bedroom then.” She turned to Akaashi and put a warm hand on his shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you Akaashi! I’d love to talk more with you, but I’m sure you’re exhausted from your flight. Feel free to take a nap before unpacking your things.”

“Thank you, Kozume-san,” he said, blinking down at the woman with a swell in his chest. She reminded him of his grandmother. 

Kenma led him upstairs, easily navigating the house without looking up from his game. Akaashi looked at the pictures lining the walls, recognizing Kozume-san with a little black-haired boy who he assumed was Kenma. One of them was taken in front of a ferris wheel, another beside a fountain in a park. They must have travelled a lot, but Kenma was never looking at the camera, his head glancing down at his video game instead. Akaashi didn’t see any sign of the boy’s father. 

“This is the bathroom,” the shorter man said, pointing to a door to their left, “and this is your room. Mine is across the hall.”

“Thank you, Kozume-san.”

“Call me Kenma.” His nose scrunched up as he glanced towards the stairs. “I apologize for my mother.”

Akaashi was about to respond when Kenma cut him off with a hum that said he already knew what he was thinking. 

“I would sleep while you can,” he continued, opening the door to his room. “I’m sure my mother has something horribly social planned for tonight.”

Akaashi’s mouth twitched at Kenma’s exasperated expression, nodding his head as he took the other man’s cue. “Thank you, Kozu— Kenma.”

The blond waved him off, turning to his own room across the hall.

“Welcome to Tokyo, Akaashi.”

~

He woke up a few hours later to the sound of someone screaming. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but the sound soon repeated itself, though it was more of a squawk than a scream this time. 

“Dude, Kenma said to be quiet!” a voice hissed from across the hall, not much quieter than the first. Akaashi threw his legs over the side of the bed, wondering who else could be in the house. He didn’t think Kenma had any siblings, unless he’d somehow missed them in the pictures in the hall. 

His body ached as he stood up, jet lag still evident in his muscles. He felt like a shower could do him a lot of good, but just as he stepped into the hall, the door to Kenma’s room burst open. In the doorway stood a man even taller than himself with messy black hair and angular eyes. He seemed surprised to see Akaashi standing there, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Aw, man. Sorry for waking you,” he said, running a hand through his bangs. “You must be the exchange student. Akaashi, right?”

“Yes.” Akaashi looked past him and into Kenma’s room, where another man was frozen midstep, staring at him with wide, golden eyes. He looked like he’d just been struck by lightning, black and silver hair sticking straight up in two tufts on his head. He held a volleyball under one arm, and it dropped to the ground as their eyes met before rolling out of sight. Akaashi’s eyes flicked to the window behind the owlish man, noting how dark the sky had gotten since he’d fallen asleep. 

“I’m Kuroo, and that’s Bokuto over there,” the taller man explained. “We’re Kenma’s friends.”

“Nice to meet you.” Akaashi nodded, gazing around the room for a more familiar short man. “Where did Kenma go?”

“He went downstairs to help his mom with dinner,” Kuroo replied, stepping back and motioning into the room. “You can hang out with us until he gets back if you want.”

Akaashi considered his options, eyes returning to the owlish man who was still just staring at him. He could go downstairs and help Kozume-san with dinner, though that would make him seem rude to Kenma’s friends. He could also decide to take a shower as he’d originally planned, but that posed the same problem. These thoughts passed through his mind in a second, and he soon found himself stepping into Kenma’s room. 

Various posters littered the walls, most of them for video games that Akaashi hadn’t ever heard of. A bookshelf sat in the far corner, but there were few actual books in it. Instead, each shelf was stacked high with video game and movie boxes. He couldn’t help but notice the kneepads atop the dresser, out of place among everything else.

“You can sit anywhere,” Kuroo said, plopping down on the bed against the wall. “Just make sure you don’t sit on any of his controllers. He gets really pissy about that stuff.”

Akaashi nodded, thoroughly examining a plush desk chair before sitting in it. He leaned his head back for a moment, closing his eyes to give himself a moment to wake up more fully. He knew he should get to unpacking soon, before his clothes got any more wrinkled than they already were. He also needed to research the bus routes from here to the university. Classes started in just a few days, and he wasn’t the type to leave preparations to the last minute.

“Bo, what the hell are you doing?” 

Akaashi opened his eyes to see that Bokuto was still standing in the same spot as before, golden eyes locked on him. It was only when Akaashi returned the stare that the owlish man straightened, cheeks darkening slightly. 

“You don’t look American!” the man blurted, voice much too loud for the small room.

“Dude, what does that even mean?” Kuroo asked, cackling at his friend’s dumbfounded expression.

“I mean he looks Japanese!” 

“And Americans can’t be Japanese?”

“Kuroo, you’re confusing me!”

“Everything confuses you, bro.”

“My dad was Japanese,” Akaashi interrupted, his flat voice somehow audible over theirs. “But my mom was not.”

Bokuto turned to stare at him again, seemingly amazed that Akaashi could speak. A few more seconds passed before Kuroo threw a shoe at his friend’s head, causing him to fall backwards with a thud. 

“Bro, what was that for?” he squawked, rubbing his ear with a pout. 

“You need to stop staring,” Kuroo replied. “You’re making Akaashi uncomfortable.”

“I was not staring!” 

“Was too.”

“Was not!”

“Um, excuse me,” Akaashi interrupted again. The other two men turned to look at him, one much more intensely than the other. “Do you know when dinner will be ready? I kind of wanted to take a shower.”

“Go ahead,” Kuroo said, waving a dismissive hand. “Kozume-san wouldn’t start eating without you.”

“Thanks.” Akaashi stood and awkwardly made his way back to his room, careful not to step on the owlish man still sprawled on the floor. It wasn’t until he gathered a change of clothes and made for the bathroom that he heard them talking again.

“ — so pretty. I couldn’t help it!”

“You were being totally creepy, bro. ”

The last thing he heard before closing the bathroom door was Bokuto’s exasperated squawk, the same one that had woken him up fifteen minutes before. 

~

They ate dinner downstairs at the large table in the kitchen, Kenma and his mother on either side of Akaashi. Kuroo and Bokuto were seated opposite them, shoveling food into their mouths like they hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Slow down or you’ll choke,” Kozume-san scolded them before turning to Akaashi. “How was your flight, dear?”

For the next ten minutes, she asked him various questions about himself and he answered to the best of his ability. It was only when she asked about his parents that he froze up, but luckily Kenma seemed to notice his discomfort and steered the conversation to something else. Instead, they talked about the courses they were taking this semester. Kenma was going to be a first year like Akaashi, and Kuroo and Bokuto were in their second year. 

Akaashi noticed that Bokuto was no longer staring at him as he had before, and he didn’t seem very talkative either. He wondered if the owlish man was usually this quiet, or if he was simply eating too quickly to speak. They made eye contact just once during dinner, but the silver-haired man quickly looked back down at his plate, slouching low in his chair. Akaashi tried to think if he had offended the man somehow, but he couldn’t think of anything. 

“Thank you for dinner, Kozume-san,” Akaashi said as she began to clear plates from the table. He stood to help, but she quickly shooed the four boys out of the kitchen. 

“Go play a game or something,” she told them, practically pushing them all upstairs. 

So once again they were crowded into Kenma’s room, though this time the shorter man’s presence made Akaashi feel less out of place. 

“I vote we play Mario Kart,” Kuroo declared, already reaching towards the TV to grab the controllers. “It’ll be better with four people.”

“Kenma always wins though,” Bokuto groaned, speaking up for the first time since before dinner. He shot Akaashi a nervous glance, as if he expected him to scold him for speaking. Akaashi thought about it for a moment before looking back at the owlish man with a wry smile.

“I don’t know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi hummed, taking a controller from Kuroo. “I’m pretty good at this game.”

“Ohoho, is that a challenge?” Kuroo snickered, plopping down on the floor beside Bokuto. Akaashi was perched on the bed next to Kenma, who was looking at him with a strange glint in his eyes. For a second he thought he’d seen the shorter man smile, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a look of determination as the game started counting down. 

Akaashi glanced back at Bokuto, who had reverted to blatantly staring at him again. But this time his wide eyes were accompanied by an even wider grin. Akaashi felt his lips twitch as he turned back to the TV. 

“You’re going to miss the boost if you don’t pay attention, Bokuto-san,” he warned, though it was already too late. The race had started, and Bokuto’s kart hadn’t moved an inch. 

~

Kenma ended up winning every race, just as they’d predicted, though Akaashi came in a close second each time. He’d even started to get used to the loud outbursts from Bokuto every time he slipped on a banana peel or fell off the edge of the track. It wasn’t until Kenma started yawning that Kuroo suggested they go to bed, and Akaashi quickly agreed. He bid them all goodnight before returning to his room, though he could still hear rumbling laughter through the walls as he unpacked his suitcases. 

The room across the hall fell silent not long after Akaashi had crawled into bed, and soon enough he was drifting off as well. His first night in Tokyo in thirteen years.

~

Bright light flooded the car each time they passed under a streetlight. Akaashi watched the moon outside the window, waving goodbye each time it disappeared behind a cloud. His mother was in the passenger’s seat in front of him, playing I Spy as best she could despite the darkness outside. 

“I spy with my little eye,” she began, tapping her chin as she looked out the window, “something white.”

Akaashi shifted in his booster seat, craning his neck to scan the streets. It took him only moments to figure it out, a smile on his face as he watched the snowflakes begin to fall from the sky. 

“The snow!” he said proudly, looking into the rearview mirror to see his mother’s eyes. They were dark green, just like his, but hers were lined from years of laughter.

“Very good, Keiji!” She turned to his father, whose hands were tight around the steering wheel. “I told you he knows his colors!”

“Only in English,” he responded with a laugh, his grip loosening slightly.

“One thing at a time, honey,” his mother responded, returning her attention to the window. “I spy something—”

 _Red_. Akaashi closed his eyes, and when he opened them again all he saw was red. The car was turned on its side, the roof caved in at jagged angles and all the windows shattered around them. Flames engulfed the front end, bathing the interior in a crimson light. He looked around for his parents, but all he saw was red, burning. Dripping. 

He bolted upright in bed, covered in sweat beneath the covers despite the chill in the air. His hands were shaking, and he put his head between his knees to try and slow his ragged breaths. He thought he should have been used to this by now. It had been thirteen years. He’d thought that returning to Tokyo would help put his mind at ease, but maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Maybe he’d made a mistake in coming here.

He needed water. 

Legs still trembling slightly, Akaashi pushed open his bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall. The house was completely still as he made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. He quickly filled a cup with water from the sink before hurrying back to the staircase, nearly dropping the glass as he ran directly into someone’s chest. The only light was that of the moon shining through the windows, and he could just barely make out the shape of the person. Broad shouldered, slightly taller than himself, silver hair.

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi whispered, clutching the water to his chest so he wouldn’t spill it. “Why are you awake?”

“I thought I heard something.” His voice sounded odd when it was quiet. Unnatural somehow, like it wasn’t meant for whispers. “Like whimpering or something. You didn’t bring a dog, did you?”

“A dog?” Akaashi was baffled. “No, I don’t have a dog.”

“I must have dreamed it then,” Bokuto said, though something in his tone told Akaashi he knew that wasn’t the case. “Do you want to take a walk?”

“A walk? Why?” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s four in the morning.”

“I just thought maybe you were having trouble sleeping. You know. Jet lag and all that.”

“Jet lag,” Akaashi repeated, mind whirling. He wondered why Bokuto was being so considerate. After all, they’d just met less than ten hours ago. He ran through all the possible motives in his mind but couldn’t think of anything. Maybe he was just being kind, and Akaashi was being paranoid. “A walk sounds nice, Bokuto-san.”

He couldn’t see the other man’s reaction, but he could imagine those big, golden eyes lighting up like they had every time he’d outraced Kuroo in Mario Kart. Akaashi could almost feel the energy rolling off of him despite how early in the morning it was, but at least he managed to remain relatively quiet as they went upstairs to grab their jackets. 

“Tell me if you get cold and we can head back,” Bokuto said, gently closing the front door behind them. “I went for a run yesterday morning and it wasn’t too bad, but I don’t get cold very easily. It’s still pretty early in spring, so I’ll understand if you only want to be out here for a little while. I won’t judge you or anything, I promise.”

“Okay, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi followed the other man down the porch and onto the sidewalk, the streetlamps casting yellow light across their faces. He looked up at the sky, but no stars were visible so close to the city. The blankness of the night bothered him for some reason, and he decided to just concentrate on his shoes instead. 

“You seem like more of a night person, Akaashi,” Bokuto noted, looking at him with studious eyes. Akaashi met his stare and the owlish man jolted slightly, whipping his head around to face forward. “I mean, you’re just kind of quiet! Like Kenma. He likes the night more, I think. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, though, unless you’ve known him for a long time. Sometimes I think Kuroo is the only one who really gets him.”

Akaashi hummed in agreement, stepping over a crack on the sidewalk where weeds had begun to sprout. They were at the end of the road now, and the taller man led the way across the street to another row of houses that looked just like the last. 

“Sometimes it gets kind of awkward because those two are so close, and I feel like I’m just bothering them. Like a third wheel kind of thing, you know? So it’s great that you’re here now, so I have someone else to talk to when Kuroo and Kenma get tired of me.” Bokuto froze for a moment, jaw snapping shut as a hesitant look passed over his face. He looked over at Akaashi nervously. “Unless you don’t want to hang out with me, which I totally get! Kuroo says I talk too much and I’m too loud and I never sit still. He doesn’t outright say that I’m annoying, but I can tell that’s what he’s thinking, so I won’t blame you if you think that, too. I mean—”

“I don’t think you’re annoying, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi cut him off, eyes trained on the pavement in front of them, “and I don’t think Kuroo-san thinks that, either.”

He walked a few more steps before realizing that the other man was no longer beside him. He turned around to see that Bokuto had stopped directly underneath a street lamp, eyes glowing like golden discs. 

“Really?” he marvelled, grin quickly returning to full wattage as Akaashi nodded. “Thanks, Akaashi! Kuroo said I seemed really creepy when we met you yesterday, and he said I probably freaked you out. But I’m happy I didn’t scare you off or anything!”

“The staring was a bit concerning,” Akaashi admitted, and Bokuto deflated. “I thought there was a spider in my hair or something.”

“No, it wasn’t anything like that,” the man assured him.

“Then what was it?”

Bokuto’s face flushed, and he refused to make eye contact as they continued walking. “I just thought you were really— I mean, I was just surprised, I guess!”

“By what?” Akaashi shoved his hands into his coat pockets, finally beginning to feel the chill of the morning air. But he wasn’t going to tell Bokuto that. 

“I don’t know. You look really…” The owlish man made a bunch of wild hand gestures that Akaashi didn’t think had any actual significance. “You look really, like, Japanese! But you said your dad was Japanese, right? So that makes sense, but you can also talk really well, too. It just kind of surprised me because a lot of foreign students can’t talk at all, you know?”

“I lived in Japan until I was five years old,” Akaashi said, slightly relieved by the other man’s confession. He’d worried for the past two months about how rusty his Japanese was, but it seemed that it wasn’t that bad after all. “Japanese was my first language, actually.”

“Really?” Bokuto squawked, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. “You lived here in Tokyo? Aw, man, if you hadn’t moved away we could’ve gone to school together! Why did you move to America, Akaashi?”

Silence stretched between them as Bokuto’s voice echoed down the street. Akaashi’s shoulders were tense beneath his jacket, and though he should have expected the question, his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He tried not to blame the other man for bringing it up; he was just curious.

“I would rather not talk about it, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi finally said, fisting his hands in his pockets. “I’m starting to get a bit cold.”

“No worries!” Bokuto waved his hands in front of him as they turned around to start walking back. Akaashi tried not to notice the disappointment in his eyes. “I’m sorry if I offended you or anything. Kuroo says I can be really nosy, but I’m not trying to be, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Akaashi said, and those were the last words either of them said for the rest of the fifteen minute walk back to the house. Bokuto was obviously on the verge of saying something else, but the words never came out. Instead, he put all his restless energy into kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. He almost got it all the way back to the house, but it eventually fell into a storm drain just a few blocks away. 

Akaashi silently wished that Bokuto would start talking again, guilty that he was the reason the man had clammed up in the first place. He looked over at the owlish man to see that the sun had started to come up behind him, softening his exaggerated features with a bright glow. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi called out to the other man as they stepped onto the porch. Bokuto turned around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, an apprehensive look on his face. 

“Yeah, Akaashi?”

“You seem like more of a day person to me.” Akaashi felt a smile pull at his lips as he watched the other man’s face light up at his words. Minutes later, as he crawled back in bed, he found he couldn’t forget how Bokuto’s smile seemed to outshine the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never really been into writing fanfiction, but I had this idea for my two favorite volleyball boys and I couldn't help myself. Buckle up, folks, because this is going to be a long one. I’m not sure how often I’ll update this with classes in session, but my goal is to keep it weekly.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Coffee

Classes started three days later, and Akaashi had thought he was ready. He’d picked up his textbooks from the library the day before and gone over the list of materials for each of his classes at least a dozen times, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his stomach when his alarm clock went off that morning. 

Akaashi hadn’t had a panic attack in months, and he thought it was because of how preoccupied he’d been with preparations for his trip. But now that he’d prepared as best he could, he felt like it wasn’t enough. He stood in the shower for what felt like hours, trembling despite the scalding water running over his skin. His grandmother had always helped guide him through breathing exercises when this happened back home, and Akaashi forced himself to relax through the fog in his head. 

_Breathe in._

His chest hurt, like his heart was trying to use up the rest of its beats as quickly as possible.

 _Breathe out._

His lungs were still taking in air. He wasn’t dying. 

_Breathe in._

He wondered if that was a good thing.

_Breathe out._

He thought of his grandmother, and decided it probably was. 

Minutes passed and the ringing in his ears eventually faded, the sound of running water suddenly too loud in his head. He stepped out of the shower on shaky legs and quickly got dressed, glad the mirror was too fogged up to show his reflection.

~

He and Kenma walked to the bus stop in silence, both weighed down by heavy coats to protect them from the wind. Akaashi pulled his scarf up over his nose and focused on the cracks in the sidewalk, the same ones he had seen on his walk with Bokuto a few days before. The neighborhoods here looked much different in daylight, the streets lined with people hurrying off to work or school. He stepped to the side as a man with a briefcase nearly bumped into him, shooting Akaashi a dirty look over his shoulder. Maybe Bokuto was right; he was more of a night person.

Kenma heaved a sigh beside him and Akaashi looked up to see a large crowd waiting at the bus stop. At first he thought the amount of people was what was bothering the shorter man, but a second later he noticed a familiar pair of men looming over everyone else, one with a mop of black fringe and the other with two-toned horns. Bokuto was talking excitedly about something, bouncing up and down on his toes and nearly stepping on the elderly woman next to him. Kuroo didn’t seem to be listening to his friend, eyes scanning the crowd until they finally landed on Kenma and Akaashi. 

“I apologize for this,” Kenma muttered under his breath. Akaashi was about to ask what he meant when a loud screech ripped through the peaceful bus stop atmosphere. 

“AKAASHI!” Bokuto’s voice drew the attention of everyone within a fifty-foot radius, and they all stared as the two men pushed their way through the crowd. Kuroo at least had the decency to look embarrassed, elbowing his friend hard in the side. Akaashi pulled the scarf even higher to hide his face from the spectating crowd. 

“What are you two doing here?” Kenma asked, an underlying glare in his tone. Definitely not a morning person. “Your apartment is only a block away from campus.”

“We took the first bus over here to see you,” Kuroo explained, throwing an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “Did you think we would miss your first day of university?”

Akaashi smirked beneath his scarf, remembering how they’d already gone through this exact conversation with Kozume-san that morning. She’d insisted on taking pictures, much to Kenma’s dismay, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she had them framed on the walls by the time they returned that evening. 

“Hey, hey, Akaashi!” Bokuto got his attention as Kenma tried to fend off Kuroo’s arm. 

“Good morning, Bokuto-san.”

“Are you excited for the first day of classes?” 

Akaashi thought about his panic attack in the shower that morning and looked down at his shoes. “I guess so.”

“You don’t have to worry, Akaashi,” Bokuto said a bit more quietly, seeming to sense his hesitation. “I’m sure you’re, like, super smart and stuff! Kenma said you got a scholarship to come here, right? So I know you can do great by yourself, but if you need anything I can help you out!”

Akaashi blinked up at the other man, whose smile was so genuine he couldn’t bring himself to deny the praise. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“Ah, that reminds me!” Bokuto pulled out his phone and held it out to him, his expression suddenly nervous. “I thought maybe we could exchange numbers! Just, you know, in case you need help or something. I’m always texting in class anyways, so I’ll answer really fast!”

“I don’t think so,” Akaashi started, shifting uncomfortably. Bokuto’s face fell, and the sadness in his eyes made a cold wave of guilt crash over him. Before the owlish man could get the wrong idea, he continued, “I can’t read or write in Japanese very well, Bokuto-san. I’m not sure I would be able to read your messages or respond to them.”

“Huh?” Bokuto looked surprised at the confession, but at least he wasn’t as dejected as he had been a moment before. “That’s okay! We could still call each other though, right? I won’t be able to answer if I’m in class, but I promise I’ll call you back right after! I mean, unless you really don’t want to—”

“That works for me,” Akaashi cut him off before the other man could go down his dejected path again. He took Bokuto’s phone and punched in his number, fumbling a bit with the unfamiliar buttons before handing it back. They repeated the process with Akaashi’s phone, and Bokuto nearly dropped it when their hands bumped together. Kuroo gave a low whistle beside them and Bokuto punched him in the arm, face reddening slightly. 

The bus pulled up not long after, and Akaashi was pressed up against Bokuto all the way to the university. At first he was uncomfortable, trying to shift away to keep his personal space. But as Bokuto’s warmth began to seep into Akaashi’s side, he found he didn’t mind it nearly as much. 

~

Akaashi hadn’t thought he would actually use the owlish man’s phone number anytime soon, but he was out of options. He’d gotten out of his first class half an hour ago and had been searching for the building of his second class ever since. Google hadn’t been much help in navigating the huge campus, and when he’d called Kenma for directions the shorter boy hadn’t answered. His next class started in less than ten minutes, and he had no intention of showing up late on the first day.

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice was somehow just as loud over the phone as it was in person. “Did you miss me already?”

“Hello, Bokuto-san. I hope I’m not interrupting your studies.”

“Nope, I just got out of class.” The older man’s voice turned serious. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Akaashi explained. “I just seem to be a bit lost, and I was wondering if you could give me directions to the education building.”

“Sure thing! Where are you now?”

“Um, I’m not exactly sure. There’s a big fountain and a coffee shop…”

“Oh, I know where that is! I’ll be right there!”

“What? No, Bokuto-san, I just need directions.”

But the other man had already hung up. Akaashi scowled at his phone before shoving it back in his pocket. He would definitely be late to his next class now. What if Bokuto was on the other side of campus? It could take him twenty minutes to get here if that was the case. Maybe he should just—

“Akaashi!” He spun around to see a familiarly owlish man jogging toward him. 

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi was stunned as he looked at the man before him, who didn’t even seem to be out of breath. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“Oh, my last class is just over there!” Bokuto pointed behind him to a squat building right beside the coffee shop. “Lucky, huh?”

“Yes, thank you for coming. My next class starts in five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” Bokuto’s eyes widened and he grabbed Akaashi by the arm, pulling him down the sidewalk. “We’re going to have to hurry then.”

They nearly sprinted across campus, Bokuto seeming to fare much better than Akaashi. He had gotten lazy in the months since his last volleyball practice, and he was gasping for breath by the time they stopped outside his next class. He vowed he would start going for runs in the mornings to get back into shape.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he huffed as he checked the time on his phone. One minute left.

“Um, Akaashi? Are you sure this is the right room?” Bokuto asked. Akaashi pulled out his schedule and checked it against the number above the door.

“Yes, this is it,” he confirmed. “Why do you ask?”

Bokuto pointed to the door, where a white piece of paper had been hastily taped up.

“What does it say?” Akaashi asked, noticing for the first time that the classroom lights were off, and no voices could be heard from inside. 

“‘Class is cancelled today,’” Bokuto read, pointing to each character as if Akaashi could follow along. “‘Sorry for any inconvenience.’”

They were silent for a moment, the only sound that of Akaashi’s labored breathing. He was irritated, at first, that all his running around had been for nothing, but his irritation was quickly replaced by relief. At least he wouldn’t be late. 

“I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi apologized. “It looks like we ran all this way for nothing.”

“But now you have an hour before your next class, right?” the owlish man asked, eyes lighting up.

“I suppose so.” Akaashi wasn’t sure what he would do with the free time. They’d passed the library on the way over here. He could go there and have a look around. Maybe they had some books in English he could check out. 

“Are you hungry?” Bokuto’s excitement was radiating off of him in waves. “Kuroo and I were just about to meet up for breakfast! You should come with us!”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi started to refuse, but his stomach growled at him in encouragement. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be intruding, I promise!” Bokuto exclaimed, already leading the way out of the building. “And the place we go for breakfast is really good! They have coffee and tea and pastries and stuff like that. I’m sure you’ll like it!”

Akaashi sighed in defeat and Bokuto gave him a wide smile, pulling him along the sidewalk the way they’d come. It turned out they were meeting up at the coffee shop by the fountain, the same place they’d been just ten minutes before. 

Bokuto held the door open as Akaashi stepped inside, the smell of coffee and baked goods making his stomach rumble savagely. Kuroo was already seated at a table in the far corner, half a pastry stuffed in his mouth as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t seem to notice them walk in. 

They approached the counter, where a silver-haired man with a bright smile was manning the register. 

“Hey, Suga,” Bokuto greeted the man as he scanned the menu.

“It’s nice to see you, Bokuto,” Suga replied, eyes flicking over to Akaashi. “And who’s this?”

“Ah, this is Akaashi! He’s the foreign exchange student who’s staying with Kenma.” 

Akaashi nodded politely as Suga greeted him, the beauty mark under his eye crinkling when he smiled.

“Kuroo mentioned something about an exchange student when he came in,” Suga told them. “Said he was really pretty. Unfortunately, Tooru heard him and now he’s on the lookout.”

“On the lookout?” Akaashi repeated, trying to keep his face neutral despite the compliment. 

“Oikawa Tooru’s the hiring manager,” Suga explained, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to a door labelled ‘Employees Only.’ “He only ever hires people who he thinks are good-looking. He claims it’s a business strategy to attract more customers, but he’s actually just a huge ass.”

Bokuto barked out a laugh, but Suga immediately shushed him, a finger on his lips.

“You’d better hurry up and order before he gets back,” he whispered dramatically, turning to wink at Akaashi. 

Bokuto ended up paying for his breakfast, despite his objections. They left the counter with a tray piled high with about half a dozen different muffins and pastries and two large coffees. Kuroo jumped when Bokuto plunked the tray down on the table in front of him, nearly spilling his cup of scalding tea all over his lap. 

“Bro, what took you so long?” Kuroo asked, setting his phone down. It was only then that he seemed to notice Akaashi pulling up a chair, and a sly smile eased onto his face. “Oh, I see. You were planning on ditching your best friend for your new, admittedly prettier friend.”

“I was not!” Bokuto defended. “I was just helping Akaashi out!”

Kuroo waved him off, turning instead to focus his attention on the quieter man. Akaashi found himself shrinking under his impish eyes. “So, Akaashi-kun,” he began, leaning forward with his chin on his palm. “What brings you to our esteemed university? The location? The championship-winning volleyball team? _A lover?_ ”

“Kuroo, stop being weird!” Bokuto sputtered, glaring at his friend. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, or he just didn’t care. The man seemed to be talking to Akaashi much more familiarly now, and he wondered what had changed since the day they’d met. Maybe Kuroo just warmed up to people quickly.

“Location mostly,” Akaashi answered, plucking a muffin from the tray in front of them. “I wanted to go to Tokyo, and this is the university that offered the most scholarships.”

“So you left your lover back home then?” Kuroo inquired, casually leaning back in his seat. Akaashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“I don’t have a lover, Kuroo-san,” he replied, suspicious of where the conversation was heading. 

“How interesting.” Kuroo glanced over at Bokuto, who was fidgeting nervously with his coffee cup. The owlish man opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a pair of hands slamming against the tabletop. 

Akaashi jumped, eyes flying up to meet those of a man with perfectly-styled chestnut hair and an impeccable sense of fashion. His long body was leaning over their table, large brown eyes assessing Akaashi from dark curls to expressionless lips. 

“Testu-chan, you’ve been holding out on me!” The man pouted at Kuroo. “You said he was pretty, but you didn’t tell me he was _beautiful_.”

“Oikawa, you’re a creep,” Kuroo replied with a grimace, pulling the man back by his collar. “Leave the guy alone.”

“Absolutely not!” Oikawa returned his attention to Akaashi, holding out his hand with a smile that was probably supposed to be friendly. “I’m Oikawa Tooru, but you can just call me Tooru. And you are…”

“Akaashi Keiji,” he replied, not taking the other’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Oikawa-san.”

“So cold, Keiji-kun!” the man whined, pulling his hand back to his chest. “But it only adds to your charm. Are you in need of work by any chance?”

“Oikawa,” Kuroo warned, glaring at the brunette in annoyance. Bokuto just looked at Akaashi apologetically, picking at his muffin. 

“I’m not sure you want me working for you, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said, not meeting the intensity in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t like he couldn’t use the extra money. University was expensive, after all, but he also didn’t want to take any responsibility he couldn’t deal with. And judging by Kuroo’s reaction, he wasn’t sure working with the brunette would be worth it.

“Nonsense,” Oikawa said, waving him off. “I’m sure you’d be great for business! You’ve already got Bo-chan head over heels for you.”

Bokuto coughed up a mouthful of coffee, spilling the rest of the cup all over the table in the process. Kuroo howled with laughter as Oikawa gaped at the huge stain across the front of his formerly crisp, white shirt. Akaashi was already halfway to the front of the store to ask Suga for paper towels, and by the time he got back Bokuto had his head bowed low, apologizing profusely to Oikawa. 

“I’m so sorry!” he squawked. “I didn’t mean to do it!”

“This was a new shirt!” Oikawa wailed, snatching a few napkins from Akaashi to dab at the stain. “Consider yourself cut off! I’m not setting to you for the next two weeks!” 

“You know you can’t do that,” Kuroo snorted, seemingly enjoying himself. He sipped at his tea with a wide grin. “He’s the ace. You can’t just not set to the ace.”

“Watch me, Tetsu-chan.” Kuroo received a nasty glare before Oikawa stomped away from their table. Just before he disappeared into the back room, the man turned around and forced a smile onto his face. “Keiji-kun, the applications are at the front! Suga, make sure he takes one!” 

With that, the other three men were left in silence, the only sound that of coffee dripping from table to floor. Kuroo was still grinning as if this had been the best five minutes of his life, but Bokuto looked less than happy with himself. His brows were drawn low over his eyes, a pout on his lips as he stared at the mess he’d made. 

Surprisingly, it was Akaashi who broke the silence.

“Oikawa-san was talking about volleyball, wasn’t he?” he asked, noticing that Bokuto immediately perked up at the word. “Do you all play?”

“Yeah, we’re on the university team!” the owlish man said proudly, sitting up a bit straighter. 

“I see. What position do you play, Bokuto-san?”

“I’m a wing spiker! The ace!” 

“Only when you’re not moping around like yesterday,” Kuroo interjected. He fluffed up his hair into two tufts on his head and coached his lips into an overly exaggerated frown. “‘Do you think I’ll ever see Akaashi again? What do you think Akaashi’s doing right now? I miss Akaashi. Do you think Akaashi has a boyfr—’”

“Bro, shut up!” Bokuto slapped his hand over his friend’s mouth so hard it nearly sent both of them sprawling to the floor. Kuroo cackled as he coaxed his hair back into its original shape, the sound reminiscent of a dying cat. 

“I played volleyball in high school,” Akaashi offered, though he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Bokuto was staring at him with wide eyes, sucking in a big breath that signaled Akaashi to the oncoming disaster. He started to warn the other man to keep his voice down, but it was too late.

“AKAASHI!” he bellowed, jumping out of his seat. Every other patron in the shop whipped around to face them, and Akaashi slumped down to hide his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you played volleyball? How long have you played for? What position are you?”

“Dude, chill out,” Kuroo hissed, pulling Bokuto back into his chair. “Remember what your mom always says? _Inside voice_.”

Bokuto looked over to Akaashi, who was hiding his embarrassment behind his scarf, and the man visibly wilted. He mumbled an apology, eyes downcast as the other patrons resumed their own conversations. It must have been exhausting for him to change moods so many times in one day.

“I’m a setter,” Akaashi eventually responded, hoping to lift the man’s spirits once more. Bokuto did look up at him then, eyes reflecting light from the lamp above them. But it wasn’t enough. There was still some hesitation there. “I would like to set to you sometime, Bokuto-san. If you want.”

That did it. His usual grin was back, though he managed contain his excitement this time. 

“If you’re any good, you should consider joining the team,” Kuroo suggested, leaning back in his chair once he was sure Bokuto wasn’t going to jump up again. “Tryouts ended a month ago, but I’m sure Coach would be willing to make an exception for an exchange student.”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi said. Truth be told, he was excited by the idea of being able to play again, but the thought of joining a team that had already been decided a month ago made him uneasy. 

“That’s a great idea!” Bokuto spoke up just a tad too loudly. Kuroo gave him a look and the owlish man lowered his voice before continuing, “I’ll talk to Coach at practice tonight! I’m sure he’ll at least let you come to the practices, even if you don’t get to play in any actual matches.”

Akaashi debated telling him not to bother, that he shouldn’t inconvenience their coach just so he would get to play. He wasn’t exceptionally good anyway, despite having been his team’s vice captain in high school. They’d never even made it past the regional championships. But the look on Bokuto’s face told him none of that mattered. He was going to try for Akaashi’s sake, and the thought brought a warm feeling to his chest.

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he said, glancing out the window of the coffee shop. He knew he should have been getting to class soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. Bokuto had launched into a story about last week’s practice match against a rivaling university, and Akaashi listened intently with his head in his palm. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

~

As he’d predicted, Kozume-san had already framed the picture of him and Kenma from this morning and hung it on the wall. Akaashi glanced at the photo as he shed his shoes in the doorway, amused by the disgusted look on the shorter man’s face. His own expression had mostly been hidden by his scarf, but the slight blush on his cheeks gave away his embarrassment. He’d never liked being photographed. 

“Welcome home!” Kozume-san greeted him from the sitting room. She was lounging deep in the couch cushions, a laptop balanced precariously on the armrest beside her. “Is Kenma at volleyball practice?”

“Yes. He said he would be home by five.” Akaashi pulled at his fingers nervously as he stood in the entryway. What would he do for three hours until Kenma returned? Ever since Akaashi’s arrival, Kenma had been a constant presence in the house. They’d spent much of the past few days sitting in the shorter man’s room, playing obscure video games or watching horror movies. Occasionally they would go downstairs to talk with Kozume-san, but Akaashi had never really interacted with the woman without Kenma beside him.

“Come sit down, Akaashi-kun!” She shut her laptop and patted the cushion beside her. “I’m sure you’ve had enough of Kenma’s scary movies by now. How about we watch something a bit lighter?”

Thirty minutes later, Akaashi was staring at the TV screen with wide eyes, captivated by Kozume-san’s favorite drama. It was stupid, really, like one of those long-running soap operas his grandmother always watched despite the horrible acting. But the actors didn’t seem quite as bad in this one, and Akaashi wondered whether it was because they were actually more talented or because he didn’t understand Japanese as well as English. He assumed it was the latter. 

By the end of the first episode, Kozume-san was halfway through a box of tissues, her mascara leaving black tracks down her cheeks. Akaashi had to admit it was a tearjerker. The main guy falls in love with a girl who he’s been friends with since they were little, but he later finds out she’s been hiding her terminal illness from him the whole time. Not only that, but she doesn’t even seem to realize he’s in love with her, which seemed a bit unbelievable to Akaashi. It was completely obvious in the way he looked at her, wasn’t it? How could she not see it? Was she blind? She must have been, to hang around a guy with hair like _that_. It looked ridiculous. How did she not laugh in his face every time she saw him?

Two more episodes went by and Akaashi was so absorbed in the story he nearly missed the sound of his phone ringing from his coat pocket.

“I’ll pause it for you, Akaashi-kun,” Kozume-san sniffled, dabbing at her eyes. “I think I need a break anyway.”

He stepped out into the hallway, head still wrapped up in the drama. Why didn’t she just tell him about her illness instead of leaving it up to him to find out? Wouldn’t it be easier for the both of them if she told the truth? Surely they could work through these problems together.

Akaashi shook his head, wondering when he’d gotten so overzealous. 

“Hello?” 

“Keiji! I thought you weren’t going to answer,” his grandmother admitted, her voice crackling a bit over the phone. 

“Sorry, Grandma. I was caught up in… something.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What was it you were doing?”

Akaashi blushed, racking his brain for some sort of excuse. There was no way he was going to admit he’d been binge-watching a TV drama, especially when he’d often poked fun at her for doing the same thing.

“Just some homework,” he finally said, glad for once to have such a monotonous voice. Lying had always come easy to him. “How are you doing?”

His grandmother didn’t comment any further on his “homework,” instead jumping at the opportunity to talk about her day. She told him about the tomatoes she picked from the garden that were almost edible, if not for the dark bruises that tainted everything she grew, then about her trip to the store, though she didn’t end up buying anything. His grandmother liked to talk, and Akaashi could tell she was grasping at straws when she started telling him how expensive her medications had gotten. 

“That’s awful, Grandma,” he empathized, a feeling of guilt worming its way into his stomach. Since his grandfather had passed a way a few years ago, Akaashi had been an extra source of income for his grandmother, waiting tables in high school and slipping all his tips into savings jar. He’d thought she could make it a year without his help, but maybe that wasn’t the case after all. “Do you need me to come home?”

“No, Dear! I’m doing just fine. Complaining is just what us old ladies do,” she explained, easing Akaashi’s worries only slightly. “You need to have fun and try to live a little. You aren’t just sitting around watching TV all day, are you?”

“No, Grandma.” Akaashi glanced guiltily into the sitting room where Kozume-san seemed to have finally pulled herself together, once again typing away at her laptop.

“Good. I don’t want to keep you all day, so I’ll let you go now. Call me soon, Keiji.”

“I will. Bye, Grandma.”

The call ended, but Akaashi found he couldn’t return to the sitting room right away. Instead, his gaze landed on his backpack hanging on the hook by the front door. He thought back to a conversation he’d had just hours before with a certain tall, doe-eyed brunette, internally cringing at what he was about to do. Before he could reconsider, he dug through his backpack for the piece of paper he’d gotten from Suga at the coffee shop, glad he hadn’t immediately thrown it away as he’d originally planned. 

When he finally returned to the sitting room, he had the paper crumpled in one hand and a pen clutched in the other. 

“Kozume-san,” he started, once again drawing the woman’s attention away from her laptop. “Could you help me fill out this application?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, hey, look who updated two weeks in a row! Sorry if this chapter seems a bit slow, but this is the trash my brain decided on so hopefully it's at least somewhat entertaining. Tags will be added as I see fit so be sure to check those out! I always tend to write really angsty stories so be prepared because I don't know how far it'll go in this one. I'm kind of just winging it, to be honest.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Crash

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the brunette drawled, leaning across the counter on his elbows to fix Akaashi with a smug grin. “I had a feeling I’d see you here again, Keiji-kun. You must not have been able to resist the opportunity to work for someone who appreciates your strengths as much as I do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You can’t be serious.” Oikawa stepped back, looking almost offended that Akaashi wasn’t catching on. “Your strengths, Keiji-kun! Smooth skin, beautiful eyes, soft curls—”

“I wouldn’t consider those strengths, Oikawa-san,” he responded, wondering if it was too late to rip up the application he’d placed on the counter just moments before. He’d come to the coffee shop after his last class ended, hoping to give the paper to Suga and leave as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it was Oikawa who had been standing behind the register when Akaashi entered.

“Don’t be so modest, Keiji-kun.” The brunette snatched up the application from the counter as if he’d read the other man’s thoughts. “Even your handwriting is beautiful! I don’t know whether to love you or hate you.”

“That’s not my handwriting,” Akaashi pointed out, tugging on his fingers. “I can’t read or write in Japanese, so I had someone fill out the paper for me.”

“Determination! I like it.” Oikawa smiled before abruptly crumpling up the application and tossing it in the trash can behind him. Akaashi wasn’t surprised; being illiterate was definitely not a desired trait in an employee. He’d just have to hope his grandmother could make it on her own until he got back to America, but he had no doubt he would end up going home early if she asked him to.

“Thank you for your time, then, Oikawa-san.” Akaashi turned to leave, but the brunette reached over the counter to stop him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. “We have paperwork to do.”

“Paperwork?”

“Yes, I can’t just have a random foreigner working for me without paperwork, Keiji-kun,” Oikawa sighed. “I thought Kuroo said you were smart.”

“But you threw away my application,” Akaashi stated, eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what I already know.” Oikawa smirked, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You start next week.”

~

“You did _what?_ ” Kuroo looked at him with a grimace that quickly turned to pity. They were once again gathered in Kenma’s room, the small space a bit too crowded for Akaashi’s liking. Kuroo and Kenma were settled on the bed while Bokuto was sprawled out on the floor, all three men looking half-dead after having just returned from volleyball practice. Akaashi was perched in the desk chair, tapping a pencil against his thigh as he finished his homework. 

When it was obvious he wasn’t going to get a response, Kuroo continued, “Working for Oikawa has got to be hell, and once he sinks his claws in there’s no escape. If I were you, I’d fake your death and move to El Salvador.”

“Kuroo, leave him alone,” Bokuto said, giving his friend an unimpressive scowl. “You’re just jealous Oikawa never asked you to work for him.”

“I am not.”

“Are too!”

“Am not.”

“Totally are too!”

“Can we please not continue this conversation?” Kenma asked, silencing the other two. “Akaashi is trying to do homework.”

“Fine, fine. No one ever wants to take my amazing advice.” Kuroo shrugged, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. 

“I wonder why,” Kenma deadpanned, standing up and making his way over to the closet. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“I shall accompany you.” Kuroo stood from the bed but was immediately pushed back down by the force of the blond’s glare. 

“Guess not, then,” he said, watching as Kenma disappeared into the hallway. “He’s always grumpy after practice.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Bokuto bolted upright and spun around to face Akaashi, a wide grin rounding his cheeks. “I talked to Coach yesterday about you joining the team, but he said he was busy and he’d think about it. Honestly, I didn’t think he would think about it at all because people always say that when they just don’t want to say no, you know? But today he came to me and said you could start coming to practices with us! Isn’t that great?”

“That’s amazing, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi agreed, all thoughts of his homework suddenly abandoned. He would get to play volleyball again, at least in practice. He didn’t know if he would be good enough to fit in with the other players on the team, and the thought made his stomach churn, but his excitement managed to tamp down his nerves for once. He felt a genuine smile pull at his lips as he thought about the kneepads packed away in the bottom of his suitcase, and how he would actually get to use them after all.

“Is he actually smiling?” Kuroo gasped, leaning forward to feel his forehead. “Are you sick or something?”

Akaashi swatted his hand away and closed the textbook on his lap. He’d have to finish his homework later, when his mind wasn’t so preoccupied and Bokuto wasn’t in his staring mode again. Akaashi wondered if the owlish man always zoned out like this in his classes, too. Surely his grades would suffer if he was daydreaming all the time. 

“We should go out tonight!” Kuroo declared, flicking Bokuto’s ear with a grin. “To celebrate our newest team member.”

“Oh, yeah!” The owlish man seemed to snap out of his daze, though his eyes remained on Akaashi. “That’s a great idea! We can invite some of the others, too, so you can meet the team!”

“I don’t know, Bokuto-san,” he responded, looking down at the pencil in his hands. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being in a large group of strangers, especially if some of them were resentful toward him for inconveniencing the team. 

“You always say that, Akaashi,” Bokuto whined, leaning back on his hands, “but you always end up coming with us anyway.”

“I think he secretly enjoys our company,” Kuroo said, already typing out a text on his phone. He stood up, motioning for Bokuto to grab their gym bags from the floor. “We need to go back to our apartment to change. Can you tell Kenma we’re meeting at the usual place in an hour?”

“I suppose,” Akaashi gave in and Bokuto grinned at him. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” he said, waving as Kuroo dragged him out of the room by his collar.

Akaashi listened until he heard the front door slam shut, debating whether or not to tell Kenma about the others’ plans tonight. He pictured the disappointment on Bokuto’s face if he were to not show up and sighed in defeat. At least he had an excuse not to finish his homework.

~

Apparently the ‘usual place’ Kuroo had referred to was a small barbecue restaurant downtown. The sidewalks were more crowded than Akaashi had ever seen, and he and Kenma were already fifteen minutes late by the time they turned onto the correct street. His phone was buzzing frantically with texts from Bokuto, who must have forgotten he couldn’t actually read the messages. But judging by his panicked emojis, Bokuto probably thought they were lost. 

“Kuroo knows I don’t like to go downtown at rush hour,” Kenma grumbled, leading them through the entrance to the restaurant. It was somehow just as busy inside as it had been on the sidewalks, most of the space taken up by large tables with even larger groups of people crowded around them. Akaashi probably would have started picking at his fingers like he usually did in these types of situations, if not for the phone ringing in his pocket. 

“Hello?” he answered, barely able to hear his own voice over the noise in the restaurant. He and Kenma scanned the area for familiar faces, eventually spotting Kuroo’s signature bedhead at a table in the back. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto squawked, relief evident in his tone. “Where are you? Are you lost? If you tell me where you are I can come get you!”

“We’re not lost, Bokuto-san.” As they neared the back table, Akaashi spotted the owlish man, phone pressed against his ear and frowning. He had his hair down for once, and it still looked slightly damp from a recent shower. The sight made Akaashi’s stomach flop, but he couldn’t quite pin down why. 

“Did you decide not to come then?” Bokuto was trying not to sound disappointed, and failing. “That’s totally fine! I know you had a ton of homework to do, so I don’t blame you for staying home. You seem, like, really responsible and stuff which is really cool. Not that I didn’t want you to come or anything, but I understand why—”

“Bokuto-san.” The owlish man jumped as Akaashi spoke in his other ear, pulling out the empty chair to his right. “Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

The other man didn’t answer immediately and Akaashi’s grin faltered. Had he offended him somehow? Or was he saving the seat for someone else? “I’ll find another chair then, Bokuto-san. I don’t mind.”

“No!” Bokuto quickly shook his head. “That seat is for you! I saved it.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Akaashi noted, wondering if the other man was lying to make him feel better. Then again, he didn’t know if Bokuto was even capable of lying. 

It wasn’t until after he sat down that he noticed everyone else at the table staring at him. Most of them were entirely unfamiliar, but a head of perfectly quaffed chestnut hair and brown eyes greeted him from directly across the table. 

“So we meet again, Akaashi-kun.” Oikawa smirked with his hands folded under his chin. “I wasn’t aware you played volleyball. Bo-chan tells me you’re a _setter_.”

“That’s correct.” Akaashi didn’t miss the challenging look in the brunette’s eyes. “I look forward to playing with you all.”

“You make it so hard to hate you, Akaashi-kun,” Oikawa sighed, slumping back in his chair. “How am I supposed to compete against this?”

“Not everything is a competition, Shittykawa,” the spiky-haired man next to him commented, jabbing an elbow into the brunette’s ribs.

“Mean, Iwa-chan! You know I bruise easily!”

It was then that Kuroo stood and called for introductions, relieving Akaashi of Oikawa’s stare. Each man took turns introducing himself, some more enthusiastically than others. A few were already familiar, like the silver-haired Suga, but the majority were strangers to him. A tall wing spiker with a serious face, a much shorter libero with slanted eyes and his hair styled upwards, a middle blocker with bright red hair and a lazy grin. The man beside Suga was a wing spiker as well, with short brown hair and a large build. The group already seemed much larger than Akaashi’s high school team had been, although Kuroo mentioned that not everyone could make it.

They were intimidating, but Akaashi was excited to play with them nonetheless.

A waitress came by the get their orders a few minutes later, seemingly frazzled by the sheer amount of food that they were getting. Bokuto was last to order but was still indecisive.

“Don’t baked beans always make you gassy, bro?” Kuroo asked, wrinkling his nose. “Maybe you should get something else. I don’t want to have to wear a gas mask every time I walk past your bedroom tonight.”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto whined, his cheeks turning red as the waitress left to put in their order. “He’s lying, Akaashi, don’t believe a word he says!”

“You don’t have to justify your flatulence to me, Bokuto-san.”

“Akaashiii!”

~

Dinner was much more enjoyable than he’d expected. Once everyone’s eyes were off of him, Akaashi found he could actually relax amongst the large group. Most of the men had rather bold personalities, and the way they interacted was amusing to say the least. Even Bokuto seemed to forget Akaashi’s existence as he challenged the short libero to an eating contest (Nishinoya won, inhaling the food on his plate so fast it was almost sickening). Kenma was the only other man who remained silent throughout the meal, playing a game on his phone beneath the table. 

The sky had darkened considerably by the time they all parted ways outside the restaurant. Oikawa blew a kiss at Akaashi over his shoulder as Iwaizumi dragged him down the sidewalk, and Suga welcomed him to the team one more time before leaving with Daichi. Eventually it was just him, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma left standing in a huddle beneath a streetlamp. 

“What are we doing now?” Bokuto asked, glancing at the others expectantly. “We should go to that new mini golfing place! I heard their balls glow in the dark!”

“No way, bro,” Kuroo said, motioning to the air around them. “It’s too cold out for that. And besides, I’m pretty sure Kenma is going to pass out at any minute.”

A quick glance at the shorter man’s worn expression was enough to confirm this, and Bokuto deflated. Akaashi sensed the owlish man had been looking forward to hanging out for a bit longer, and this disappointment would probably stick with him for at least three days. Kuroo also seemed to realize this, quickly changing tactics. 

“If only there were someone else who could go with you,” he pondered, looking at Akaashi with a sharp gaze. The message in his eyes was clear: _Do it or we’ll all suffer_. 

Akaashi sighed, thinking of all the homework he still had to do before tomorrow. He really didn’t want to stay out any later, but it would be worth it to make Bokuto happy. 

“It’s too cold out for golfing, Bokuto-san,” he started. As if to prove his point, a gust of wind blew through the streets, nearly knocking Kenma off his feet. “But we can do something else, if you’d like.”

“Really?” Bokuto turned to him with a hopeful expression. “You really want to? I mean, you don’t have to stay if you want to go home. We already dragged you out to dinner, so I get it if you’re tired.”

“I’m not tired yet. I want to stay out a bit longer.” It wasn’t until after the words left his mouth that Akaashi realized they were true. He wanted an excuse not to go to sleep yet, and this time it wasn’t just because of the nightmares that visited him at night.

“Great! We’ll be heading out then,” Kuroo said, throwing an arm around Kenma’s shoulders. The shorter man didn’t even complain as he was dragged down the sidewalk. “You kids have fun!”

He gave Akaashi a smile that was probably supposed to be appreciative, but it just looked as smug as always. They watched as the pair disappeared into the stream of people hustling down the sidewalks, leaving them in an awkward silence. Akaashi was surprised by Bokuto’s sudden lack of conversation, his face uncharacteristically nervous.

“Bokuto-san, are you alright?” 

“I’m great!” he responded just a bit too quickly, starting down the sidewalk in a seemingly random direction. Akaashi followed him after a moment’s hesitation. 

“Where are we going?” He glanced up at the buildings around them, bright neon signs hanging in every available space. The last time he’d been downtown was when he’d first arrived at the airport, the rain dampening the energy of the city. But now the area was bustling with activity, the nightlife unaffected by the cold chill in the air. 

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Bokuto came to an abrupt stop, earning a few angry glances from the people walking behind them. “What do you want to do?”

“Hmm, preferably something indoors.”

“Right, right, right.” Bokuto seemed to think for a second, eyebrows drawn low as he stared at the pavement. Then suddenly he was smiling again, snapping his fingers in recognition. “I know! We can see that new movie that just came out. The one about the gnome that solves mysteries?”

“Isn’t that a movie for children?” Akaashi asked, feeling a grin tug at his lips. 

“Well, yeah.” Bokuto scratched the back of his neck, a blush spreading up to his ears. “Never mind, that was a stupid idea. We can find something else—”

“Let’s go then.” Akaashi motioned for the other man to lead the way. “The previews for the gnome movie were funny, and I’ve been wanting to see it.”

The smile Bokuto gave him then was so bright it made his heart hurt.

~

The movie was alright, definitely a nice break from Kenma’s horror movies and Kozume-san’s TV dramas. Bokuto was completely absorbed in the screen the entire time, and Akaashi wondered if he even realized how their knees would occasionally bump together. At one point Bokuto turned to whisper in his ear, something about how the gnome detective reminded him of Kuroo, but Akaashi wasn’t paying attention. All he could think about was how close their faces were, and how Bokuto’s eyes seemed to glow in the dark of the theater. 

After the movie was over, Bokuto insisted they get ice cream at a parlor across the street. Akaashi was going to say it was far too cold to be eating ice cream, but he couldn’t bring himself to rain on the other man’s good mood.

“I think I liked this movie better than the last one,” Bokuto chattered, already halfway through his cone. They were sitting on a bench outside the ice cream parlor, a streetlamp casting them in pale yellow light. The cars were flying by on the street before them, the usual heavy traffic nowhere to be seen this late at night. “I’m really glad you came to see it with me! It would have been kind of pathetic for a full grown man to go see it all by himself.”

“Thank you for taking me, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, wondering if he should just throw away the rest of his cone so his fingers wouldn’t freeze off. “I really enjoyed it, too.”

“You did? That’s a relief! I thought you just came because you didn’t want me to get all moody.”

“That is why I came,” Akaashi admitted, causing Bokuto to squawk in offense. “But I also have fun when I hang out with you, so I wanted to come.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto groaned, hiding his face in his jacket. His voice was muffled as he continued, “It’s so _unfair_! How can someone be so nice _and_ smart _and_ beauti—”

They both jumped as a car horn blared to their left, the cone in Akaashi’s hand falling to the pavement as he took in the scene before them. 

It all happened in a second. One car was halfway through the intersection when another ran the red light in the opposite direction, going way too fast for such a busy street. The sound of grating metal ripped through the air and they were both flipping over, again and again and again, the smaller of the two smashed beyond recognition. 

Akaashi started running before the cars even came to a halt. He vaguely registered Bokuto yelling after him, but he didn’t stop running until he made it to the center of the intersection, where the smaller car lay upside down. The engine was smoking, the smell sending a wave of nausea straight to his stomach. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he began frantically pulling at the driver’s side door. 

“Hello?” His voice burned in his throat, probably the loudest sound he’d ever produced in his life. “Are you okay? _Please say something!_ ”

The door was jammed, dented inward from the impact. He moved on to the back side, but it was in even worse shape than the front. He pulled on the handles with all his strength but to no avail, the doors rendered useless. The windows were completely shattered, glass littering the entire intersection. Akaashi got down on his knees to look into the car, but it was too dark to see anything clearly. He reached his hand through the driver’s side window and felt something soft and wet against his palm. A woman groaned from the darkness within and his heart skipped a beat. He was about to try to rip the door open again when a hand clamped around his shoulder.

“Akaashi, what are you doing?” Bokuto was frantic, eyes wide as he hauled the shorter man to his feet. “I already called the police. We need to get away from here!”

“No!” Akaashi ripped his arm away from the other’s grasp. He began pulling at the door handle again, cursing his hands for shaking so much. “There’s someone inside here! We need to help them!”

A pair of arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him up again, but this time his feet were dangling an inch off the ground. 

“Let me go!” Akaashi yelled, wriggling in Bokuto’s grasp. “They need help! What are you doing?”

It was then that he realized his words were in English, and Bokuto couldn’t understand his pleas. He racked his brain for the right words in Japanese, but they never came. He was helpless as the other man hauled him away from the wreckage. 

“The car is smoking, Akaashi,” Bokuto explained, his voice eerily calm. Since when was he the level-headed one? Didn’t this situation warrant a lack of calm? Did he not care what happened to the people in that car? “It’s too dangerous to be near there.”

Bokuto set him down on the bench once more, keeping his hands firmly on his shoulders. The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance, but Akaashi felt no relief. Guilt ripped at his insides, yelling at him to get back over there and do something. Anything.

“Why are you crying? Are you okay?” Bokuto asked, kneeling down in front of him. The shaking of Akaashi’s hands drew the owlish man’s attention, and he gasped. “Akaashi! You’re bleeding!”

He looked down at his palms, at the tiny shards of glass protruding from his skin. Blood oozed from the wounds, but he felt nothing. His head swam at the sight of the red fluid staining the pavement below.

“I would have died,” he said suddenly, looking up into Bokuto’s eyes. He wanted the other man to understand, _needed_ him to understand. The world around him tilted suddenly, and he felt a steady hand keeping his head upright. 

“You’re not going to die,” Bokuto assured him, but Akaashi shook his head.

“No, I would have died _back then_ ,” he explained. “I would have died if they hadn’t saved me.”

“Akaashi, what are you…”

Then everything went silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry this is a couple days late! I've been pretty busy this week so I haven't had much time to write, but I finally managed to get this chapter finished. It's a bit shorter than usual but also more eventful so hopefully you enjoyed it! Again, sorry for the angst. I have no self-control.
> 
> Fun fact: This chapter was actually based on something that happened to me while studying in Peru a couple years ago. I started to feel faint on the bus and couldn’t remember how to speak Spanish for some reason, so I was just babbling in English while everyone stared at me. Good times.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Distant

He wasn’t scared at first. There was obviously something very wrong, the car no longer lying flat on its wheels as it had been moments before, but Akaashi didn’t know what had happened. The straps of his booster seat were the only thing keeping him from falling into the pile of broken glass below him. It wasn’t until he felt the sharp pain in his neck that he started to cry, his voice rising over the crackling fire at the front of the car. He tried to catch a glimpse of his parents but saw nothing through the bright red flames. 

“Oh my god, there’s a kid in there!” 

“Get the door open! Hurry!”

The muffled voices were barely distinguishable over the sound of his own crying. He felt the heat of the flames creeping toward him through the windshield, and he couldn’t move his neck enough to wiggle out of his restraints. It had been so cold outside just hours before, his mom bundling him in a thick coat before they left. How could it be so hot now?

The smoke stung his eyes and he clamped them shut, the red still dancing behind his eyelids. He vaguely recognized the sound of screeching metal as the door beside him popped open, cold hands immediately moving to unclasp the straps at his waist. 

He whimpered as the person hauled him out of the car, his neck jarring painfully. His eyes didn’t reopen until he felt the heat fade away, the cold winter air bringing a sudden sting to his face. 

“Here, take him.” The man who’d pulled him out of the car handed him over to a woman, another child already clasped tightly around her leg. “I’m going to see if I can get the others out.”

“It’s too dangerous,” the woman insisted, pulling the man back by his coat sleeve. “That car is going to—”

~

Akaashi’s eyes fluttered open, but he couldn’t see much. The lights above him were dimmed and the window to his right revealed a pitch black sky. An IV was taped to the back of his hand, the fluid making his veins feel like ice. He groggily lifted his other hand above him, examining his long, trembling fingers. He noted the small scar on the back of his thumb, the one he’d gotten during a volleyball match in high school, and he let out a sigh of relief. He was no longer dreaming. 

“ … just some scratches. He probably fainted from stress more than anything.”

“I can’t imagine what he went through. He was so young.” Akaashi recognized Kozume-san’s voice immediately, though the other person remained a mystery. He tried to lift his head to get a better look, but a wave of nausea pushed him back down. 

“I think he’s waking up,” the other woman said, coming to stand beside his bed where he could see her more clearly. Akaashi was struck by how familiar she looked, though he was fairly certain they had never met before. She was wearing a white lab coat, her long, dark hair pulled back from her face to reveal a set of shiny golden eyes. 

“Hello, Akaashi.” She smiled, and it was lopsided in a way that reminded him of one person in particular. He already knew who she was, even before she said it. “I’m Koutarou’s mother, but you can call me Doctor Bokuto. I’ll be taking care of you today— well, I guess it’s tonight now. You know what I mean.”

“Bokuto-san?” he rasped, glancing around the room for the owlish man. His memories were coming back to him in bits and pieces. Ice cream, screeching tires, broken glass. A pair of warm hands holding him upright until the ambulance arrived. He was mortified as he realized he must have fainted, and even more so when he remembered the things he’d said to Bokuto beforehand.

“He wouldn’t stop fidgeting, so I sent him home.” Bokuto’s mother shook her head as she fiddled with his IV. “That boy gets way too worked up over these things.”

“I needed to talk with you privately anyway, Akaashi.” Kozume-san moved to sit in a chair alongside the bed. Guilt twisted his stomach as he noticed the worn expression on her face. She’d probably woken up to a call from Bokuto that night, telling her Akaashi had passed out. He couldn’t meet her eyes, ashamed that he’d caused her trouble over nothing. It wasn’t like _he_ was the one who had been in the accident.

“I called your grandmother to tell her what happened,” Kozume-san explained. Akaashi’s head snapped up at the words. “I know you probably didn’t want to worry her, but she needed to know. Then she told me about… what happened. With your parents.”

Akaashi froze, his breath caught in his throat as his mind slowed to a crawl. He thought a choking sound might have escaped his lips, but he wasn’t sure.

“I won’t tell anyone, Akaashi,” she continued, placing her hand over his, “and I don’t want to make you talk about it. I just want you to know I’m here for you, okay?”

The room was silent for a long minute, and Akaashi was sure he’d never felt so uncomfortable before in his life. He wished he could rewind to just a few hours before and tell Bokuto he really didn’t want to stay out after dinner. Then he wouldn’t be in this situation now. Surely there was someone else who could have called the police at the intersection. Akaashi had only managed to make the situation worse in his panic.

His heart was still racing at the thought that someone else knew about his parents, and he glanced up at Kozume-san warily. It had always been a secret kept between Akaashi and his grandmother. Not even his high school friends had ever found out why his mom and dad never came to any of his volleyball games. He didn’t want people to see him differently because of what had happened, and the fact that a near stranger knew his secret put him on edge.

“Well then.” Doctor Bokuto cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. “I just need to do a final exam and Kozume-san can take you home, okay?”

Akaashi nodded, eager to get out of there as quickly as possible. A cold sweat was crawling up his spine, signalling an impending panic attack, and he _really_ did not want to cause a scene twice in one night.

“You have very long eyelashes, Akaashi-kun. I’m jealous,” the doctor chuckled, shining a small flashlight into each of his eyes. He appreciated the woman’s efforts to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond. “You know, Koutarou doesn’t come home to visit as much anymore. He says he’s hanging out with a new friend, an exchange student from America.”

“Yes, Kou has been coming over a lot more since Akaashi got here,” Kozume-san chimed in with a small smile. “You know how he is. Very curious.”

Doctor Bokuto hummed in agreement, and Akaashi winced as she poked at the bandages on his palms. “He gets very attached to his friends. You should have seen him when you first got brought in, Akaashi-kun. He was pacing and rambling like a madman. I finally had to call his father to come and drag him back to his apartment.”

“That reminds me of last year, after Tetsurou got hurt during a practice match,” Kozume-san started with a chuckle. “Kou was so worked up he didn’t eat for two days. And it was just a sprained ankle!” 

“He got that from me, I’m afraid. We’re always worked up over something.” The doctor gave Akaashi a lopsided smile and patted him on the shoulder. “You seem fine, Akaashi-kun. I’ll have to call Koutarou and tell him you’re alright. I’m sure he’s driving Tetsurou crazy by now.”

She stood there for a moment, a pained expression passing over her face as if she were thinking of saying something else. It reminded him of how his grandmother always looked every year on the anniversary of his parents’ death, as if she were debating whether or not to acknowledge they had ever existed at all. 

Eventually the doctor smiled, seeming to decide against the thoughts in her head. 

“It was very nice to meet you, Akaashi. If you have any further issues feel free to give me a call.”

“Thank you very much, Bokuto-san,” Kozume-san responded, helping Akaashi to stand from the bed. His legs were shaking, but he tried his best to keep what remaining composure he had. The last thing he wanted was for Bokuto’s mother to keep him in the hospital overnight.

“I’ll see you both at the next volleyball match,” the doctor said, waving as Kozume-san led him to the front desk to check out. 

But Akaashi’s mind was stuck on what she’d said earlier, about Bokuto being upset that he’d fainted, and a deep feeling of shame washed over him. He’d tried so hard to make sure Bokuto was happy all evening, but he’d just ended up making everything so much worse. He’d also managed to inconvenience Kozume-san, who he’d known for less than a week. Kenma was probably worried as well, and Akaashi knew the blonde would be curious about what had happened. 

What if his secret got out? He knew they would all treat him differently, and he didn’t want that. He’d just started to become comfortable around them. He’d just started to become comfortable around _Bokuto_. He didn’t want to imagine those bright, golden eyes filled with pity for him. The thought made him sick to his stomach. 

Needless to say, he didn’t sleep at all that night.

~

It was around four in the morning when Akaashi decided to write a text message to Bokuto. He pulled out all his textbooks, including his massive English-to-Japanese dictionary, and prepared himself for the long process of writing a heartfelt apology in a language he didn’t actually know how to write. 

But no matter what he came up with, it all sounded stupid to him. 

_Sorry for inconveniencing you_. No, that was too insincere.

 _Sorry for running into the aftermath of a car accident and screaming like psychopath_. No, that was too hard to translate. 

_Sorry for freaking out and fainting in your arms_. 

Akaashi put his head in his hands, a new wave of embarrassment crashing over him. There was no way to write this without sounding like an idiot because he _was_ an idiot! If only he were further into his classes, maybe this would be a bit easier. He was sure that even if he did manage to write out an entire message, it would be riddled with grammar mistakes that would make it unintelligible. He was tempted to just call the owlish man instead, but it was far too early in the morning for that. 

In the end, he ended up typing just one sentence: _I apologize for last night_. 

Before he could second guess himself, he hit the send button. It definitely wasn’t the best apology in the world, but he figured he could say it better the next time he saw Bokuto. But just the thought of seeing the other man made his heart drop into his stomach. How could he explain himself without sounding crazy? Perhaps Bokuto wouldn’t care if his excuse was full of holes, but Kuroo and Kenma seemed much harder to fool. He would just have to hope they would take his word for it and blow it off as a weird foreigner thing. There wasn’t any other option.

By the time he stumbled downstairs that morning, he felt like he’d been dead for a couple hundred years. Kenma and his mother were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when Akaashi came in. Their mouths fell open in shock as they took in his drooping eyes and disheveled clothing, and he regretted agonizing over his message to Bokuto instead of taking a shower. Kozume-san looked at the backpack slung across his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“You are _not_ going to class today, Akaashi,” she stated, crossing her arms on the table. “I’ve already emailed your teachers to tell them you’re sick.”

“I feel fine, Kozume-san,” Akaashi said, but the rasp in his voice gave away his fatigue. 

“You should really stay home today, Keiji,” Kenma backed up his mother, and Akaashi blinked down at him in stunned silence. Had he just called him by his given name?

“No arguments,” Kozume-san ordered. “Go back to your room and I’ll bring up your breakfast.”

Akaashi was about to argue, but the glare she was giving him was enough to make him scurry back up the stairs. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.

He heard the front door open and shut a few minutes later, signalling that Kenma had left for class. Akaashi was still reeling from their conversation in the kitchen, wondering if he had actually heard the shorter man right. Were they really on a given-name basis now?

It was only a minute later that he received a text message from Kenma himself, written in perfect English.

 _I’m glad you’re okay, Keiji_.

Akaashi didn’t know why, but he felt like he’d just won an award.

~

Bokuto never responded to his text message that day. 

Nor did he respond the next day when Akaashi returned to his classes. He had to admit he was disappointed when the owlish man wasn’t waiting for him at the bus stop like he had been the first morning. 

By Saturday Akaashi knew something was up. It had been four days since the fainting incident, and Bokuto had been strangely absent ever since. Kuroo came over that night, but he merely shrugged when Kenma asked about the owlish man. But Akaashi didn’t miss the way Kuroo stared at him when he thought Akaashi wasn’t looking. It made him nervous for too many reasons. Was something wrong with Bokuto? Was he sick? 

Had his mother told him Akaashi’s secret? 

A chill ran down his spine, and he shook the thought from his head. Surely that would be a violation of some sort of medical code, right? A doctor couldn’t tell anyone their patient’s private information. But Bokuto was her son. Would she break the code if he asked? Was Bokuto avoiding him because he had found out about his parents?

Akaashi spent the better part of the weekend pondering this idea, and the more he did the more plausible it seemed. Why else would Bokuto suddenly start avoiding him? And judging by Kuroo’s strange behavior, the owlish man had told his friend, too. That meant that Kenma also knew, if he hadn’t already, and now he was surrounded by four people who knew his secret. He didn’t know what he would do if any one of them decided to talk to him about it. He didn’t think he could stand it, so would he just say nothing? Would he just walk away? What if—

“Akaashi, I need to talk to you,” Kuroo said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sat up on his bed, wondering how long Kuroo had been standing in the doorway staring at him. How had he not noticed the door opening?

“About what?” Akaashi asked, though a twist in his gut told him he already knew. _Oh god_ , he thought, his fingers clenching the bed sheets beneath him. Here it came. Kuroo was going to ask about his parents, and Akaashi wasn’t prepared to talk about it yet. He needed more time to sort out his thoughts. He couldn’t do this now. 

“It’s about Bokuto.”

_What?_

Akaashi’s brow crumpled as his thoughts came to a sudden halt. 

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” he started, not sure what the other man wanted to know. “Is he okay?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Kuroo said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but he’s been a disaster since your little date a few days ago.”

“It wasn’t a date—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kuroo cut him off. “I don’t really care what it was. I just care about Bo’s emotional stability, and whatever you said to him has really fucked him up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Akaashi defended, a scowl overtaking his face. The other man matched his expression, and for the first time Kuroo looked truly threatening.

“Look, I don’t need to know what happened. What I need is for you to stop moping around and go make it better.”

“How do I do that?” Akaashi asked, but Kuroo was already turning to leave.

“How the fuck do I know? Go figure it out.”

Then the door slammed shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the REALLY long wait on this chapter! The end of the semester has really been kicking my ass, but finals are next week and then I'll have a lot more time to write. Thank you all so much for your patience!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Misunderstanding

After Kuroo left, Akaashi sat in stunned silence for a few moments. It was only when his phone started ringing that he moved, scrambling for it beneath the sheets. He was a bit disappointed when he finally found it and saw that the caller’s name was not surrounded by owl emojis. This was the fifth time his grandma had called him since the night he’d gone to hospital, and each time she would ask him if he was still okay. As if he would somehow be unfortunate enough to witness another car crash while he was in Japan.

He found he couldn’t talk to her today, not while his mind was reeling like this. After the ringing had stopped, Akaashi scrolled through his contacts to find the name he had originally been hoping for. It was only after he had started the call that he began to second-guess himself.

_Beeeep_.

What if Bokuto didn’t want to talk to him? 

_Beeeep_.

Kuroo said he was the reason Bokuto was upset.

_Beeeep_. 

What could he possibly say to make the owlish man feel better?

_Beeeep_.

Akaashi almost hung up out of panic, but a clicking sound on the other end stopped him. He sucked in a breath as a familiar voice came through the speaker.

“Hey, hey, hey—”

“Hello, Bokuto-san. I need to—”

“ —leave a message and I’ll get back to ya!”

_Click_. 

Akaashi threw himself back onto the bed with a huff, scowling so hard he thought his face might get stuck like that forever. At least that was what his grandma always told him.

That confirmed it, then. Bokuto had said he’d always answer Akaashi’s calls unless he was in class, but it was a Sunday. Unless he had some sort of weekend courses Akaashi didn’t know about, the owlish man truly was sulking about something. But what was it? Was he mad at Akaashi for running out into the intersection that night? That would be understandable, since he’d only managed to put them both at risk. Had Bokuto’s mother told him about Akaashi’s secret after all? It was possible, though it was odd that Kuroo seemed to know nothing about it. Surely the owlish man would tell his best friend something like that.

Was Bokuto upset for a reason completely unrelated to Akaashi? Doubtful, but the thought made him feel just a little bit better. Perhaps he was overthinking the situation. A myriad of things could be the reason behind Bokuto’s moods, and maybe that thing wasn’t Akaashi. Perhaps Kuroo was wrong, and there was some other explanation for Bokuto’s sudden absence. The only way to find out would be to see for himself.

This was the thought that fueled him as he got up to shower for the first time in three days. It was only after he got dressed that he realized Kuroo was right. Moping around wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Talking Bokuto out of his moods wasn’t hard— he’d done it before with no problem— but it felt like defusing a bomb. Like if he said the wrong thing, the situation would just blow up in his face.

But so what if it did? He’d only known Bokuto for a week. It wasn’t like they were close friends, nor were their personalities particularly compatible. Maybe it was for the best that they didn’t hang out so much. That way, Akaashi could concentrate on his studies and Bokuto could focus on volleyball or whatever it was he was studying. This was one of the only logical thoughts that had crossed Akaashi’s mind in the past few days, so why did it feel so wrong?

He really needed to stop thinking about it.

“Kuroo-san.” Akaashi knocked on the door across the hall, hoping the taller man was still hanging out with Kenma. His hands fidgeted in front of him as he listened to sound of shuffling from the other side of the door. He’d gotten used to walking right in to Kenma’s room whenever he wanted, but now he felt too much like an intruder. Akaashi wondered if that was because Bokuto wasn’t there.

Kuroo was the one who finally opened the door, but he didn’t look happy about it. His eyes were still narrowed like they had been earlier, and his hand was gripping the edge of the door a bit too tightly to seem welcoming.

“Yes?”

“I need the address to your apartment,” Akaashi explained, his fingers beginning to hurt with how much he was bending them. “I’m going to visit Bokuto.”

~

He stopped by a donut shop on the way to the bus stop and picked up a whole dozen. Judging by his everyday diet, it wasn’t hard to guess that Bokuto liked sweets, and Akaashi could only hope a box of donuts would be enough to make him feel better. 

But as the bus drew nearer to the address Kuroo had given him, Akaashi couldn’t help but feel a bit stupid. Maybe he should have opted for flowers instead. Or was that too intimate? He had to admit he didn’t know what an appropriate apology gift was in Japan, and so his first instinct was food. _Way to feed into the fat American stereotype, Akaashi_. 

The wind was vicious as he stepped off the bus, and he had to fight to keep the donut box from flying out of his hands. He was surprised at how close the apartment was to campus, but Akaashi found himself wishing it was further away. It would give him more time to sort out his thoughts and decide what to say when he got there.

As the apartment complex came into view just down the street, he felt himself start to panic. His hands were shaking around the donut box, but he forced himself to take deep breaths as he drew closer to the building. He could do this. Just drop off the box, say a few words, and leave. No big deal. 

But after knocking on the door of the apartment, he decided it was, in fact, a _very_ big deal. 

What was he even doing there? This wasn’t any of his business. What if Bokuto wanted to sort out his problems on his own? What if he slammed the door in Akaashi’s face as soon as he saw him? Or even worse, what if he didn’t? Then they would have to talk, and Akaashi wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing that right now. 

How many seconds had it been since he’d knocked? Twenty? Thirty? 

Akaashi didn’t know why he’d expected Bokuto to be at home. He definitely wasn’t the type of person to stay cooped up all day. He could have been visiting his parents or out for a run or practicing volleyball. There were so many things he could have been doing, but Akaashi hadn’t thought of any of them. Should he just leave the donuts by the front door? Surely Bokuto would be home before they went stale. 

He was just bending down to place the box on the doormat when he heard the bolt sliding on the other side of the door. 

“Bro, did you lose your key again?” 

Akaashi froze as the door swung open to reveal a shirtless man with a mess of silver-streaked hair. At first, he was sure this man was not Bokuto. Sure, it _really_ looked like Bokuto, and the owl tattoo on the man’s chest had a very Bokuto-ish vibe, but it _could not_ be him. 

This man looked… awful. 

His hair looked like it hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo in more than a couple days, and those sweatpants definitely hadn’t been washed recently. Was that a ketchup stain on his crotch? And why was he only wearing one sock?

Pseudo-Bokuto rubbed at his eyes blearily with one hand and scratched at his stomach with the other. The whole scene would have been embarrassing if not for the fact that Akaashi had been in the same state of disarray just a few hours ago. Despite the man’s overall grubbiness, Akaashi couldn’t help but admire the muscles standing out in his bare shoulders and abdomen. He wondered briefly what that owl tattoo would feel like under his fingertips.

It wasn’t until Bokuto pulled his hand away from his eyes that he seemed to really look at the person standing on his doorstep. Akaashi could see the other man’s brain working in overdrive as he realized the man at his door was, in fact, _not_ his roommate.

A few seconds passed without either of them saying anything, the traffic below filling the silence. Akaashi finally decided he should be the one to talk first. He was the one who had showed up unexpectedly, after all.

He took a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak.

“Hello, Bo—”

Then the door slammed in his face, taking his determination with it. He stood there for a few seconds, his mind trying to process what exactly had just happened. There were two things that had been confirmed in that eight second encounter. 

First, Bokuto was upset with Akaashi after all. That one was pretty obvious, and it wasn’t all that shocking either. He had been expecting this outcome after all. He wasn’t surprised that Bokuto wouldn’t want to talk with him after the whole fainting incident, and it was a given that any friendship they would have afterwards would be awkward and forced. Akaashi didn’t blame Bokuto for wanting to cut off their contact after something like that. It just wasn’t worth it to salvage a friendship that had become troublesome in its first week. 

But what did upset Akaashi was the second thing that came to his mind after the door slammed in his face: 

Bokuto wasn’t who Akaashi had thought he was. 

Ever since he’d first met the owlish man, Akaashi had only ever seen him as straightforward and honest. Bokuto had shared weird and even embarrassing facts about himself from day one, and Akaashi had based his trust in the owlish man on this fact. In the back of his mind, Akaashi knew it was his own fault for developing an unrealistic perception of Bokuto, but right now he was entirely too willing to fool himself into thinking this situation was anyone’s fault but his own. 

_Who just stops speaking to someone like that?_ Akaashi thought, glaring down at the donut box in his hands. _Would it have killed him to at least text me back?_

He didn’t know if it was the cold air seeping into his bones or the anxiety that had been building inside him for the past week, but Akaashi couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. He let himself be furious, just this once.

He contemplated tossing the box over the balcony to the sidewalk below, but decided eating a dozen donuts by himself would be a much better way to vent his anger. He was turning to make his way back home to do just that when the door sprang open behind him, this time much more violently than the first. Akaashi was afraid the thing was going to fly off the hinges with how forcefully Bokuto had pushed it open, but he was only preoccupied by the feeble door for a second before his eyes narrowed in on the owlish man. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto huffed, seeming to have thrown on a t-shirt and clean sweatpants in the ten seconds since he’d slammed the door in Akaashi’s face. “I didn’t know you were coming by!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy avoiding me, we could’ve arranged a more convenient meeting,” Akaashi retorted, voice flat with annoyance. Bokuto winced.

“I wasn’t avoiding you!” he defended, waving his hands in front of him in a gesture of innocence. “I’ve just, uh— been really busy! You know, with school and stuff. I don’t really have a whole lot of time for— ”

The owlish man stopped talking as Akaashi moved to cross his arms over his chest, green eyes burning into gold. 

“I don’t want excuses, Bokuto-san,” he started, trying desperately to keep his voice even. He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over this. He had enough stress already without worrying about people he barely even knew. It was time to just rip the bandaid off and move on. “I just came by to apologize for how I acted a few nights ago. I’m sure your mother has already told you everything and that’s why you’ve been avoiding me. I have to admit, I’m disappointed you would see me differently because of that, but I don’t blame you. I don’t care that you don’t want to be friends anymore, but next time I would appreciate it if you would at least have the decency to call me back.”

Akaashi shoved the box of donuts at the owlish man’s broad chest and fixed him with a blank look.

“That’s all. Have a nice day, Bokuto-san.”

He only made it a few steps before the other man rushed around him to block the stairwell leading to the street below. 

“W-Wait!” Bokuto stuttered, arms extended by his sides as if he were prepared to tackle Akaashi if he tried to escape. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Bokuto-san, please don’t try to tell me you never received my calls. I’m not that stupid.”

“No, I did get your calls!” Bokuto protested, dropping his gaze with a look of shame. “But I didn’t answer because I knew you were mad at me. I don’t like it when people are upset, especially people that are important to me!”

“Mad at you?” Akaashi repeated, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I made you stay out with me that night.” Bokuto looked truly crestfallen now, as if he was confessing to his greatest sin. “It’s my fault we were there when… you know, and so it’s my fault you got freaked out and fainted and had to go to the hospital. I messed up and I’m really sorry, Akaashi. I don’t blame you for being mad at me because it was my own stupid fault.”

Akaashi hadn’t thought anything could have put out the fire raging in his stomach, but Bokuto’s confession seemed to dampen it just a little. That paired with the owlish man’s dejected expression were enough to make Akaashi uncross his arms with a sigh. 

“That wasn’t your fault, Bokuto-san,” he started, feeling a worm of guilt begin to wriggle its way into his chest. Was that what the other man had been thinking all this time? No wonder he looked so horrible. The guilt was probably killing him. “I’m not angry at you for that. I’m angry because you stopped talking to me. You didn’t answer any of my calls and you stopped coming to Kenma’s house. What was I supposed to think, other than that you didn’t want to see me anymore?”

“Agh, I’m so stupid!” Bokuto put his head in his hands with a whine. “My mom was right! I should’ve just talked to you about it!”

“Your mom…” Akaashi suddenly couldn’t meet the owlish man’s eyes any longer. “Was that all she said? She didn’t tell you about my— about anything else?”

Bokuto shook his head. “She just said that you were going to be alright and that I shouldn’t get so worked up.”

Akaashi looked up into the other man’s face, searching for any hint that he was lying, but he found nothing. Bokuto truly didn’t know his secret. 

“She’s right,” Akaashi finally said, relief washing over him. It felt good to have one weight off his shoulders. “You shouldn’t worry so much about what other people think.”

Bokuto’s sudden bark of laughter startled Akaashi so much he nearly stumbled off the edge of the balcony. Luckily, the guardrail was there to save him from the embarrassment of falling into the bushes lining the sidewalk below. 

“That’s pretty funny coming from you Akaashi!” Bokuto said, his usual buoyant tone returning full force. “You worry about _everything!_ ” 

Akaashi was going to argue, but the smile on the owlish man’s face was too bright to risk making it disappear. It had only been a few days since he’d last seen Bokuto, and he didn’t realize how much he missed the man’s enormous presence until now. It was a relief to know that their friendship wasn’t over after all, but Akaashi still wasn’t sure that the other man had completely forgiven him. 

“Bokuto-san, you said you weren’t avoiding me, right?”

“No!” the other man immediately responded, shaking his head quickly. “I mean, not on purpose.”

“Then why did you slam the door in my face earlier?” Akaashi asked, voicing the only remaining doubt that filled his mind. That had been the moment when he’d lost all hope of restoring their friendship, and he wondered if Bokuto wasn’t telling him the whole truth. What if the owlish man really was angry at him but was too nice to say anything? What if he’d slammed the door on purpose but felt guilty about it so he came back out a minute later? What if— 

“Oh, I just needed to put a shirt on,” Bokuto explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “And some clean pants. I couldn’t have a serious conversation with you when I was half naked!”

“I see.” Akaashi couldn’t help but think back to the owl tattoo on the other man’s chest, and the broad shoulders he’d previously only seen beneath track jackets and coats. His mind wandered to thick biceps and a strong abdomen, and Akaashi regretted not taking a better look when he’d had the chance. 

He internally cringed at his own train of thought. 

“Um, Akaashi? Maybe we should go inside and get out of the cold,” Bokuto suggested, leaning forward to examine the shorter man’s face. “Your cheeks are turning really red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter, but I hope you guys like it! I haven't been able to work on this fic near as much as I'd like to, but hopefully that'll change soon. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Strawberry Shampoo

Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment was a bit cleaner than Akaashi had expected it to be. In other words, at least he could almost see the floor beneath the piles of dirty laundry and takeout boxes. The smell of sweaty gym socks assaulted his nose immediately after Bokuto opened the door to let him inside. The owlish man must have noticed Akaashi’s watering eyes, rushing over to throw open the windows to air out the place.

“I’m sorry, Akaashi!” Bokuto wailed as he began the grueling task of gathering all the ramen cups off the floor. “I would’ve cleaned up a bit if I’d known you were coming over!”

“That’s alright, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi glanced around the apartment, taking in the odd smattering of possessions scattered about the living room. It was easy enough to tell which things belonged to Bokuto and which belonged to Kuroo. An owl lamp with no bulb, a crooked painting of a black cat on the wall, an industrial sized bottle of hair gel, a framed photograph of Kenma sleeping. Akaashi’s eyes eventually landed on a pair of underwear in the middle of the floor, the word ‘ _Ace_ ’ printed across the backside. Bokuto seemed to notice a split second later, his face turning red as he quickly shoved the underwear under the couch with his foot. 

“That was a birthday present from Kuroo,” he mumbled, clearing a stack of chemistry textbooks off the couch so Akaashi could sit. 

“I see.” The younger man sank down into the couch cushions, surprised by how comfortable he felt in the crowded space. It was certainly a relief to feel the tension between him and Bokuto disappearing, and Akaashi felt foolish as he realized how much he’d been overanalyzing the situation. It would be best if he could avoid any more misunderstandings in the future for the sake of his own sanity, though his tendency to overthink would certainly make that difficult. 

Bokuto made no move to sit down himself, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. 

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi frowned at the other man’s discomfort. “Do you want me to leave? I understand my visit was unexpected.”

“No!” Bokuto blurted, running a nervous hand through his limp hair. “I just— I think I’d better take a shower real quick! I probably smell pretty bad, and I don’t want you to think I’m gross or anything. I’m not usually this dirty, I promise! And I always brush my teeth twice a day!”

“That’s very hygienic of you,” Akaashi responded, a small smile hidden behind his scarf. It was nice to hear Bokuto’s rambling again, even if the owlish man’s cleanliness was being put into question. 

“So, um, I guess I’ll go shower now. I’ll try to be real fast, but you can watch TV or something in the meantime if you want!” 

Bokuto disappeared into the hallway for only a second before he returned, an embarrassed look on his face. 

“Actually, I just remembered that me and Kuroo broke the remote last week when we were wrestling. Maybe you can read the magazines on the table instead, yeah? They’re really interesting! There’s even an article about our volleyball team in there somewhere!”

Akaashi nodded, picking up the stack of magazines from atop the coffee table. The owlish man hurried off toward the bathroom for a second time, only to return again a few moments later. 

“Akaashi!” he cried, eyes round as golf balls. “I’m sorry! I forgot you can’t read Japanese very well! Maybe there’s something else—”

“Please go shower, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi cut him off, amused by the other man’s fretting. “I promise I won’t die of boredom while you’re gone.”

“Okay, okay, Akaashi! I’ll be right back.” Bokuto begrudgingly left the room once more, and this time he didn’t return immediately. A moment later, Akaashi heard the sound of water running from somewhere down the hall. 

Though he was sure he would only be able to read a handful of words on each page, Akaashi began to flip through the stack of magazines to pass the time. Not surprisingly, a lot of the articles were sports-related, and Akaashi eventually came across the one Bokuto had mentioned before. 

A large picture of the university volleyball team spanned two pages, many of the faces familiar from when Akaashi had eaten dinner with them the week before. His eyes scanned the group of men, picking out Sugawara’s bright-eyed grin and Oikawa’s spindly frame before spotting the man he’d been looking for. 

Bokuto was showing off his trademark smile in the very center of the group, his spiked hair blocking half the face of the man behind him. Though the picture was probably supposed to look professional, the owlish man held up a peace sign with one hand and had the other arm slung around Kuroo’s shoulders beside him. Akaashi’s lips pulled into a frown as he examined the photo more closely, noticing how Kuroo’s hand was curled around the back of Bokuto’s shorts. It was an indisputable ass-grab, but the look on the owlish man’s face said he didn’t seem to mind it.

A clear stream of thoughts hit Akaashi all at once.

Exhibit A: Bokuto and Kuroo always seemed to be together, no matter what time of day it was. 

Exhibit B: Bokuto and Kuroo met at the coffee shop every morning to eat breakfast together.

Exhibit C: Bokuto and Kuroo lived together. 

Exhibit D: Kuroo bought Bokuto underwear for his birthday.

And the most damning piece of evidence, Exhibit E: The ass-grab.

_Bokuto and Kuroo were dating_. 

Akaashi didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it before. He should’ve realized it the moment he’d seen how protective Kuroo was of Bokuto. He’d always just assumed they looked out for each other because they were friends, but it made much more sense under a different scope. Akaashi hadn’t ignored the feeling in his gut that said Kuroo didn’t like him, and now he understood why.

Was Kuroo jealous of Akaashi?

No, that was ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? It wasn’t like Akaashi wanted anything more than a platonic friendship with Bokuto. In fact, wasn’t it Kuroo who suggested he come and make amends with the owlish man? There was nothing to worry about. He would just need to be extra careful about how he interacted with Bokuto from now on. The last thing he wanted was to cause any more unnecessary drama between them. 

Akaashi put the stack of magazines back on the coffee table, suddenly wishing he’d had the foresight to bring his backpack with him. Now that his head had been cleared of the week’s previous stress, he really needed to catch up on his homework. He was in Japan to study, after all, and not to worry about his new friends’ relationships.

Akaashi was outlining kanji on the palm of his hand when Bokuto burst back into the living room, hair dripping down the back of his clean t-shirt. 

“You’re still here!” the owlish man exclaimed, seemingly unaware of the puddle of water that was gathering at his feet. 

“Yes, I’m still here,” Akaashi responded. He glanced up at the silver and black strands that were plastered to Bokuto’s forehead. “I think you should dry your hair before you flood the apartment, Bokuto-san.”

“But Kuroo doesn’t let me use the hairdryer,” he huffed, pushing the strands out of his face. “He usually does it for me!”

Exhibit F: Kuroo blow dries Bokuto’s hair every morning.

“Why doesn’t he let you use the hairdryer?”

“Oh, I almost dropped it in the toilet one time! It was a good thing Kuroo was there to save it. He’s got cat-like reflexes, you know.”

“I see.” Akaashi hesitated with his next words, thinking of the internal promise he’d made to not make things awkward between him and Bokuto. He didn’t want to accidentally give the wrong impression, but Akaashi’s resolve diminished when Bokuto started to shake his head, flinging water all over the living room. 

“I can dry it for you, if you’d like,” he suggested, looking away when the owlish man jumped up with a squawk of approval. 

Bokuto pulled him into the bathroom, chattering excitedly about what a good friend Akaashi was. The word _friend_ stuck in his head as the owlish man began rifling through the drawers for the hairdryer. Friends dried each other’s hair, right? Was that normal?

The bathroom was still muggy from Bokuto’s shower and Akaashi felt an unwelcome feeling of unease worm its way into his stomach. It was much too crowded in the small space with both of them standing, so Akaashi ordered the other man to sit on top of the toilet while he plugged in the dryer. 

“You don’t have to look so worried, Akaashi,” Bokuto said, swaying back and forth on the toilet seat. “I promise I washed my head really good!”

Akaashi’s lips quirked up.

“I believe you, Bokuto-san.” He flipped on the hairdryer and positioned himself directly in front of the owlish man. Hesitating only briefly, Akaashi began combing through the silver and black locks with his fingers, the smell of strawberry shampoo filling the air. It was similar to the scent he’d used when he was a small child, the kind that didn’t burn when it got in his eyes, and Akaashi wondered if they even made that shampoo for adults.

Regardless, he found he rather liked the smell.

“You’re really good at this, Akaashi,” Bokuto sighed, sitting completely still for once. “Do you dry your hair every day? Is that why it’s so curly?”

“No, my hair looks awful when I dry it,” Akaashi admitted, turning the other man’s head a bit so he could reach the back. He tried to ignore the shiver that ran through Bokuto’s shoulders as he worked through the hair behind his ears. “But sometimes I dry my grandmother’s hair when she’s too tired.”

“Hmm, your grandma’s real lucky.” Bokuto’s eyes were closed now and Akaashi had to force himself not to stare at the man’s eyelashes. 

Nearly every other time he’d seen Bokuto, his hair had been coated in gel to keep his owlish style in place, and it always looked like it would feel coarse to the touch. But now that it was freshly washed and gel-free, Bokuto’s hair was incredibly soft, and Akaashi didn’t want to stop running his fingers through it.

He considered doing another run-through even after everything was dry so he wouldn’t have to stop, but the thought of Kuroo walking into the apartment made him finally switch off the hairdryer.

“Hey, hey, thanks, Akaashi!” Bokuto hooted as he stood to check his reflection in the mirror. “It looks a lot better when you do it! I think Kuroo just tries to get it dry as fast as possible.”

_Isn’t it wrong to compare me to your boyfriend?_

__“I’m sure Kuroo-san does a good job.”_ _

__“He does okay, I guess.” Bokuto began the process of coaching his hair into his signature style, and Akaashi watched with his hands clasped together in front of him._ _

__“Um, Bokuto-san,” he started once he couldn’t hold in his curiosity anymore. “How long have you and Kuroo-san known each other?”_ _

__“Oh, I’ve known Kuroo since before high school!” Bokuto said, puffing out his chest as if he were proud of that fact. “We met at a junior high volleyball match! My team beat his in straight sets!”_ _

__“That’s very impressive.” Akaashi wasn’t surprised that it had been so long since Bokuto and Kuroo had met. They were practically inseparable, after all. “Your team must have been very good.”_ _

__“We were awesome!” Bokuto boasted, putting the finishing touches on his hairstyle. “But my highschool team was better! We went to nationals my first two years and made it to the quarterfinals both times! But then our starting setter graduated and we didn’t have anyone else who could set.”_ _

__Silence fell over them for a few seconds, and Akaashi watched as Bokuto’s face began to transform into a pout. It was easy to see that this was a topic that still upset him, but the owlish man seemed to stop his own train of thought before he went into a full-on depressive mode._ _

__“I think the videos of our national games are still online somewhere! Maybe we can watch them on my laptop, yeah?”_ _

__Bokuto turned to look at him with a bright grin and Akaashi completely forgot about the homework that was waiting for him back at Kenma’s house._ _

__“That sounds nice, Bokuto-san.”_ _

__~_ _

__Akaashi didn’t remember falling asleep. He remembered sitting next to Bokuto on the couch and watching volleyball games on his laptop, and he remembered thinking how cute the owlish man had looked in high school. He remembered Bokuto pointing out his old teammates and cheering when they made a good play. He definitely remembered how warm Bokuto felt at his side as the laptop balanced on their knees, but he did not remember giving in to his drowsiness._ _

__So Akaashi was surprised when he opened his eyes to see the room tilted at a forty-five degree angle, his head nestled into Bokuto’s shoulder and the smell of strawberry shampoo in his nose._ _

__It was then that he realized he must have dozed off, and it was just a second later that he noticed there was now a third person in the room._ _

__“Kuroo, you woke him up!” Bokuto whined as Akaashi bolted upright. He looked across the room to where Kuroo was sprawled out in the armchair, a sly smile on his face._ _

__“Am I not allowed to speak in my own apartment?” he asked, keen eyes trained on Akaashi. He hoped the man wouldn’t notice the heat rising to his face, but maybe that was an unrealistic wish._ _

__“You shouldn’t talk while someone’s sleeping!” Bokuto protested, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown._ _

__“Kuroo-san did not wake me up,” Akaashi interjected, wanting nothing more than to get the man’s cat-like eyes off of him. “I apologize for falling asleep. It was very rude of me.”_ _

__Akaashi wasn’t the jealous type. He’d only ever had one boyfriend in the past and had never felt any sort of possessiveness in the short time that relationship had lasted. But Kuroo was different. He seemed to be protective of Bokuto, which was understandable given how easy it would be to take advantage of the owlish man. Akaashi didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this situation, but he was determined to fix it._ _

__He turned to press his back against the opposite end of the couch, putting as much distance between himself and Bokuto as possible._ _

__“Are you hungry, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, seemingly unaware of the heavy tension in the air. “Me and Kuroo ate all the donuts you brought, even though I told him to leave one for you. I’m really sorry, Akaashi, but we can go out and get something to eat if you want! Or I can just order pizza if you don’t want to go outside. Kuroo said it’s really cold out right now.”_ _

__“No, thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied, glancing at Kuroo across the room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the taller man was no longer looking at him, instead seeming to be absorbed in his phone. “I should probably go back home now. I need to finish my homework.”_ _

__“Really?” Bokuto looked disappointed, though he was trying not to show it. “That’s okay! Let me grab a coat and I’ll walk you to the bus stop!”_ _

__“That’s not necessa—”_ _

__“Just let him do it,” Kuroo interrupted, looking up from his phone to give him an exasperated look. “Otherwise he’ll mope all night.”_ _

__Akaashi studied Kuroo’s face for a moment, looking for any hint of jealousy, but he found nothing. Or was he just really good at hiding it?_ _

__“Alright,” he conceded, and Bokuto whooped before leaving to grab his coat._ _

__He and Kuroo were left in an awkward silence that Akaashi hoped would be ended quickly by Bokuto’s return, but he wasn’t that lucky._ _

__“So you two made up, huh?” Kuroo asked, turning in the chair to face him head on. His sly smile was back now, and Akaashi wondered how he should interpret that. Was it a challenge? Should he tell Kuroo he didn’t need to worry? That he wasn’t trying to get between him and Bokuto?_ _

__“I suppose so,” Akaashi finally said, unsure of what else Kuroo wanted from him. He twisted his fingers together in front of him, wondering what was taking Bokuto so long._ _

__“You looked pretty cozy when I walked in,” Kuroo continued, motioning to where they’d been sitting on the couch. “Bokuto was practically vibrating with excitement. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up.”_ _

__“I apologize, Kuroo-san.”_ _

__“Apologize?” the taller man repeated, propping his chin up on his palm. “For what?”_ _

__He was really going to make him say it, wasn’t he? Luckily, Akaashi had no qualms about being blunt._ _

__“I apologize for falling asleep on your boyfriend.”_ _

__There was a brief moment of silence before the room was filled with the horrible grating of Kuroo’s laughter, and Akaashi felt his face pull into a scowl._ _

__“What’s so funny?”_ _

__“You— you’re not very bright, are you?” Kuroo made out between rounds of snickering. Akaashi could feel his eyebrow begin to twitch, but he was _not_ going to let his annoyance show in his voice. Nope. Absolutely not. _ _

__“What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?” _ _

__“Why don’t you ask Bo?” Kuroo chuckled, returning his attention to the phone in his lap. Akaashi opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of footsteps barreling down the hallway._ _

__“I found it!” Bokuto cried, bursting into the room in a yellow coat that swallowed even his large frame._ _

__“Bro, you look like a ball of piss-stained snow,” Kuroo remarked, barely glancing up from his phone. “Is that the coat your mom got you?”_ _

__“Shut up, Kuroo!” Bokuto glowered, patting down his coat as he led Akaashi to the front door. As soon as he threw it open, the late evening air flooded the apartment, immediately chilling Akaashi to the bone. He was not looking forward to the fifteen minute walk to the bus stop._ _

__“See you later, Akaashi-kun!” Kuroo called, and he gave a terse nod in return. Just before Bokuto closed the door behind them, Kuroo gave a sly wink that was definitely aimed at Akaashi. Cat bastard._ _

__“Sorry about Kuroo,” Bokuto mumbled as they started towards the stairs. “He can be a real ass sometimes.”_ _

__Akaashi merely hummed in response, not wanting to get into his real feelings concerning the other man. Bokuto trusted Kuroo for some reason, so he couldn’t be as bad as he seemed._ _

__But that didn’t mean Akaashi had to get along with him._ _

__“I like your coat, Bokuto-san,” he commented, successfully changing the subject. Akaashi noted how the yellow color resembled that of the owlish man’s eyes, and he wondered if that was why his mother had bought it for him. “It suits you.”_ _

__“Really, Akaashi?” Bokuto grinned, looking down to examine his torso. “It’s kind of lame to wear something my mom bought me, huh?”_ _

__“Not at all.” Akaashi stopped himself before he said what was really on his mind._ _

_There’s nothing lame about having a mother who cares for you_. 

__Bokuto was as talkative as ever as they continued down the sidewalk, and Akaashi was grateful for the other man’s ability to fill the silences. He knew he tended to give short responses when asked about himself, but Bokuto didn’t seem to mind. He just kept on talking as if Akaashi had given him all the information he needed._ _

__That was an invaluable trait in Akaashi’s mind._ _

__“You didn’t bring gloves?” Bokuto inquiered, stopping beneath a streetlamp a few feet from the bus stop. “Aren’t your hands cold, Akaashi?”_ _

__“I’m fine. The bus should be here soon.”_ _

__“Nooo, Akaashi! You can have my gloves!”_ _

__“Then your hands will be cold, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi pointed out. “That wouldn’t solve the problem.”_ _

__“Hmmm, you’re right.” Bokuto reached out and took Akaashi’s hands in his, the warm wool of the gloves catching him by surprise._ _

__“What are you doing?” Akaashi asked, glancing around to see if anyone was looking their way. But the only other person at the bus stop was a high school student with her earbuds in._ _

__“Now we’re both warm!” Bokuto declared, pressing their jumble of hands to his chest. “It’s best to share warmth when it’s cold out, you know.”_ _

__“Where did you hear that?”_ _

__“Um, I think I saw it in a movie.”_ _

__“I see.”_ _

__Kuroo’s words echoed in his mind._ _

_Why don’t you ask Bo?_

“Bokuto-san?” 

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“Wouldn’t Kuroo-san be angry if he saw you holding hands with someone else?”_ _

__“Angry? Why would he be angry?” Bokuto turned to stare down at Akaashi with wide eyes. “Did he tell you he was angry at me?”_ _

__“No, no,” Akaashi quickly backtracked, and he wished he hadn’t broached the subject at all. But there was no going back now. “I just thought that because you two are dating—”_ _

__“Who?”_ _

__“You and Kuroo-san.”_ _

__Bokuto didn’t respond for so long that Akaashi started to fear he’d offended the man somehow. What if he hadn’t wanted anyone to find out that he and Kuroo were dating? If that were the case, then why did Kuroo grab Bokuto’s ass in a photo they knew would be published in a magazine? Surely Akaashi wasn’t the only one who noticed how close the two men were. Surely there were others who—_ _

__“You think me and Kuroo are dating?” Bokuto asked, voice rising in pitch with every word. He sounded almost… shocked?_ _

__“Yes,” Akaashi responded, running through the evidence in his head. Suddenly, none of it looked convincing anymore, but he refused to believe he was just imagining things. “He gave you underwear for your birthday, and— and he was touching you rather inappropriately in the magazine photo. Is he not your boyfriend?”_ _

__“No!” Bokuto yelped, making a face like he’d just licked a toilet seat. “I would never date Kuroo! I mean, he’s my best bro and I love him, but he’s totally not my type! Besides, I’m pretty sure him and Kenma have been dating since, like, forever.”_ _

__“Kuroo and Kenma?” Akaashi asked, and Bokuto nodded. His head was spinning with all these new revelations, but he couldn’t ignore the slight feeling of relief in his chest. But what was it for? Was he relieved that Kuroo wasn’t actually angry at him? Or was it something else? Something that Akaashi really didn’t want to think about?  
__

__"I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,” he finally said, shaking that train of thought from his head. “I shouldn’t have assumed something like that.”_ _

__

__“That’s okay, I understand!” Bokuto’s words were comforting, but his expression was suddenly nervous. He kept glancing over at Akaashi before looking back down at their hands still pressed to his chest. It was obvious he wanted to say something else, and fortunately for him Akaashi was a fairly patient person._ _

__

__Unfortunately, the bus was turning the corner and would be stopping in front of them within a minute._ _

__

__“Um, Akaashi?” Bokuto stammered, not quite meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was just wondering if you— if there was someone back in America who you like? And you don’t have to answer! I just— are you dating someone right now? Like a girlfriend or maybe a boyfr—”_ _

__

__“My last boyfriend broke up with me after graduation,” Akaashi admitted, sparing Bokuto the embarrassment of finishing that sentence. “I haven’t dated anyone else since.”_ _

__

__“Whaaat?” Bokuto’s head snapped up and his eyes locked on Akaashi’s. “Why would he do that?”_ _

__

“Hmm, I think his exact words were _‘talking to you is like talking to a brick wall,’_ ” Akaashi recalled. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was sharing this with a man he’d only met a little over a week ago. It wasn't like his breakup had been particularly traumatic for him, but it just didn’t seem like something he should be sharing with a near-stranger. 

“He must’ve been pretty boring, then,” Bokuto stated, catching Akaashi off guard. He looked up to see hard conviction on the owlish man’s face. “You only look like that when you’re studying real hard or talking to someone you don’t know very well. I think you’re kind of like… like one of those flowers that only opens up in the sunlight, you know? Like, you might seem kind of serious at first, but once you open up you’re actually really interesting and funny and beaut— I mean, this is kind of a stupid comparison, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Akaashi. This is why I failed my poetry class in high school!”

__

__Bokuto trailed off as the bus doors opened before them, the high school girl taking no time in boarding to get out of the cold. Akaashi could see the driver motioning to him from behind the wheel, but he couldn’t leave just yet._ _

__

__Before he could second-guess himself, Akaashi leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Bokuto’s cheek. The owlish man squawked in surprise, eyes wide as dinner plates as the shorter man pulled away._ _

__

__“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” he said quickly, stepping around him and hurrying onto the waiting bus. Akaashi didn’t look back at Bokuto until they were pulling away, and he was surprised to see two wide, golden eyes staring up at him from the sidewalk._ _

__

Bokuto was waving to him with one hand, a stunned look on his face as the other hand reached up to touch his right cheek. The owlish man didn’t move even as they turned the corner onto the next street, until eventually he could no longer be seen out the back window of the bus. 

__

__Akaashi’s lips were still tingling when he crawled into bed that night._ _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi is so stupid and I love him.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Snake

“I want you up front as much as possible, Keiji-kun. A face like yours only comes once in a blue moon,” Oikawa insisted, straightening the name tag clipped to the front of Akaashi’s shirt. He spun the shorter man around to tighten the strings of his waist apron, his hands coming dangerously close to groping Akaashi’s backside. “I must say, these pants fit you really well. I’m sure you’ll be great for business!”

“Careful, Tooru, or you’ll have a sexual harassment case against you,” Suga warned from his station in front of the smoothie maker. “You wouldn’t want Iwaizumi to think you’ve got eyes for someone else, would you?”

“Of course not!” Oikawa took a step back to admire his work. “Iwa-chan is the only man for me! Sorry, Keiji-kun.”

“But I was really looking forward to courting you, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi deadpanned, earning a round of giggles from Sugawara. The brunette seemed less impressed by the joke, sticking his tongue out at both of them.

“That’s enough playing around! Suga-chan, I’m leaving Keiji in your care.” 

Sugawara turned to give Akaashi a reassuring smile and Oikawa scoffed.

“You two better not make any plans to overthrow me,” he said, walking past them to the back office. Just before he disappeared behind the door, the brunette turned back to pin Akaashi with an oddly genuine grin. “Welcome to the team, Keiji-kun!”

With that began Akaashi’s first shift at the university coffee shop. 

It was Monday afternoon, only thirty minutes after his last class had ended, and he was already tired. The events from the day before were taking a toll on him— he tried not to think about kissing Bokuto and the embarrassment that came with that memory— but Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to regret being taken under Oikawa’s wing. He was doing it for his grandmother, after all, and he could power through it as long as he kept that thought in mind. 

When the smoothie maker spit up fruit juice all over his shirt.

_Do it for Grandma._

When a group of girls came in and didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were taking pictures of him.

_Do it for Grandma._

When a man in a backwards baseball cap spilled his coffee on the front counter… twice.

_Do it for Grandma._

It wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with these things before— he’d waited tables back home for years— but at least now he had Sugawara to lean on when he was struggling. The silver-haired man helped him wipe the fruit splatter from his shirt and the coffee from the counter, and he even shooed away the girls with the cameras. When Suga offered to be on register for the rest of the shift, Akaashi thought he could even see angel wings sprouting from the older man’s back.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have much time to talk in the first few hours they worked. Most classes were coming to an end for the day, and the coffee shop was filled to maximum capacity with students and teachers who wanted to meet up before going home for the day. It wasn’t until almost six o’clock that the place finally started to empty out, and Sugawara called to him from behind the register.

“Akaashi-kun, there’s someone here to see you!” he sang, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It wasn’t until Akaashi looked to the other side of the counter that he realized why, and it took all of his remaining energy to keep a straight face at the sight of the man before him. 

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he greeted with a slight nod. Akaashi glanced at Bokuto’s right cheek, half-expecting there to be some sort of mark from where he’d kissed him, but of course there was nothing. “How are you?”

“I’m great!” Bokuto replied, though his smile gave away his underlying nervousness. Akaashi wondered if it had been a mistake to kiss the owlish man the night before. At the time, he’d only been thinking of what felt right in the moment, but maybe he’d only managed to make things more awkward between them again.

“Do you think you can handle the register for a bit, Akaashi?” Suga asked, giving him a sly wink that Akaashi hoped Bokuto couldn’t see. 

He merely nodded in response, trading places with the older man so that he was now standing across the counter from Bokuto. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and Akaashi nearly forgot that he was supposed to say something at all. 

“Um, would you like to order something, Bokuto-san?” he asked. Though he’d said some version of that sentence about a million times in his life, for some reason it felt awkward on his tongue in that moment. 

“Yes! I mean, no. I just… I came by to see if you were coming to volleyball practice tonight!” Bokuto stammered, eyes wide with anticipation. “I mean, Oikawa always closes the shop in time for practice, so you could come with us if you’re not too tired! Coach said it was okay and you seemed excited to play so…”

“I would love to go,” Akaashi said, glancing at the clock above the front door. The shop closed in half an hour. “But I didn’t bring any gym clothes with me. I don’t think I can practice in this.”

He motioned to his fruit-stained work uniform and Bokuto’s eyes followed his gesture down the length of his body. The owlish man quickly looked away, suddenly very interested in the cup of free mints on the counter. 

“I guess that’s true,” he conceded, lips pouted in defeat. Akaashi was just opening his mouth to offer some words of consolation— that perhaps he could join them tomorrow— when Suga spoke up from beside him.

“I have an extra set of clothes you could borrow, Akaashi-kun.” The grey-haired man offered a small smile, and Akaashi wondered how such a kind human being could exist so close to someone like Oikawa. “They might be a bit small on you though…”

“Thank you, Sugawara-san.” Akaashi bowed his head in gratitude. “I’m sure they will fit fine.”

~

The clothes did not, in fact, fit fine.

Suga’s shirt was just a tad too small around the shoulders and waist, but that wasn’t the major issue. What really bothered Akaashi were the pants, which only fell to his mid-thighs no matter how much he tried to keep them pulled down. Unfortunately, there was no other option but to suck it up and make it through the practice with his head held high. Maybe if he could manage to keep everyone’s attention off of himself, no one would notice how ridiculous he looked. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi! Are you ready yet? Everyone else is already warming up!”

So much for that thought.

He turned to see Bokuto waiting for him by the locker room door, feet shuffling eagerly. Akaashi couldn’t help but notice the black spandex covering the owlish man’s legs, and he wondered whether they were compression pants or just really long knee pads. 

“Just a moment.” Akaashi bent down to pull his shoes on, glad that he’d decided to wear sneakers to class instead of his winter boots. He could feel Suga’s shorts riding up as he straightened, and he had to wrestle them back down before following Bokuto to the door.

The owlish man was no longer moving, wide eyes trained on Akaashi’s legs.

“Do I look absurd, Bokuto-san?” he questioned, suddenly self-conscious. “Perhaps I shouldn’t practice with you all today.”

“No!” Bokuto’s eyes snapped up to meet Akaashi’s, a slight blush rising to his face. “No, you look fine! I mean, I don’t think anyone else will notice your clothes. I was just staring ‘cause Suga told me to see if they fit, that’s all! Besides, I’m pretty sure Oikawa’s shorts are smaller than those, anyway…”

“Are you sure?” Akaashi investigated Bokuto’s face as the man nodded profusely, looking for any sign that he was just trying to appease the younger man’s worries.

Eventually, Akaashi let himself be dragged out of the locker room and into the main gym. The familiar smell of waxed floors and sweat wiped any lingering insecurity from his mind, and his heart leapt in his chest as he watched a tall wing spiker slam the ball into the other side of the court. It was a feeling he hadn’t thought he’d get to experience again, at least not until he returned to America the next year and joined a university volleyball club there. 

“Are you excited, Akaashi?” Bokuto drew his attention back to where they stood along the edge of the gym. The man had a lopsided grin on his face as Akaashi nodded, ready to get his hands on a volleyball already.

Before he could cross the few feet separating him from the ball carts, a low voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Is this the foreign exchange student, Bokuto?”

An extremely tall man appeared at the owlish man’s side, and Akaashi didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed him there before. He was young, probably just a few years older than Bokuto. Akaashi pondered what position the man could play, though middle blocker seemed most likely considering his height. 

“Yep, this is him!” Bokuto puffed out his chest as he put a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “He plays setter! I really want to hit his sets because I’m sure he’s super amazing! Right, Akaashi? Hey, hey, Coach, you should let him play in the practice game next week!”

“Coach?” Akaashi stammered, immediately turning to bow before the taller man. “It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Akaashi Keiji. Thank you for allowing me to practice with your team.”

“It’s no problem at all.” The coach waved him off with a chuckle. “In fact, you’re actually doing me a favor. Bokuto is only a reliable ace when he has someone to keep him in check, and if you can do that I’d consider you a valuable member of the team.”

“Hey!” Bokuto squawked, crossing his arms with a huff. “I’m always reliable!”

“I can count on you to show Akaashi the ropes, then,” the coach replied, motioning to the net behind them. “Spiking practice. Get to it.”

~

The ball fell with a dull thud at Bokuto’s feet just as he landed from his jump, his hand failing to make contact for the second time in a row.

“I apologize, Bokuto-san. That one was a bit low.”

“No, that one was on me!” The owlish man piped up before stepping back to prepare for the next ball. His body held a stance that showed hundreds of hours of practiced run-ups, but his mind appeared distracted.

“Is something wrong?” Akaashi asked, holding the ball to his chest.

“No, I’m fine! Give me another one, Akaashi!”

The younger man frowned as he got into position once more, fingers adjusting slightly to Bokuto’s position as he set the ball high into the air.

This time, there was the satisfying smack of the ball as it hit the other side of the court in a razor sharp straight, and Akaashi felt a relieved sigh escape him.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto whipped around to face him immediately after he landed, a brilliant smile rounding out his cheeks. “Did you see that? I hit it right on the line! That was amazing, wasn’t it, Akaashi?”

“Yes, I saw it.” Akaashi bent down to retrieve another ball, already thinking of the adjustments he would make next time to make his set better. “That was indeed amazing, Bokuto-san. I’m impressed.”

“Hey, hey, don’t look so surprised, Akaashi! I am the ace after all!” Bokuto flexed his arms above his head dramatically. “Let’s do that again!”

But despite that one incredible straight, they were unable to recreate anything even remotely as impressive in the next ten minutes of practice. Akaashi noticed that Bokuto’s focus was wavering significantly, and as a result his run-ups were suffering. However, the owlish man didn’t seem to be in a dejected mood, either. He even seemed to be having fun despite their repetitive failures, and Akaashi didn’t know what to make of the situation.

He was about to suggest they work on some timing exercises when Oikawa interrupted them from the other side of the net. 

“Hey, Bo-chan! Maybe you should try keeping your eyes on the ball,” the brunette called, a hint of smugness behind his smile as he turned to face Akaashi. “Nice shorts by the way, Keiji-kun. Bokuto never stares at _my_ ass like—”

“Oikawa!” the coach yelled from the sidelines, obviously fighting to keep a smile off his face. “Switch places with Akaashi and see if you can get Bokuto back on track.”

“Yes, Coach.” Oikawa smirked, dipping down to cross the net.

Bokuto's face fell as Akaashi turned to do the same, but before the owlish man could start pouting, Oikawa lobbed a ball at his chest. 

“Bo-chan, let’s get to it. My time is precious, you know.”

On the other side of the net, Akaashi stood before the man who Oikawa had been practicing with, but he didn’t recognize him from the dinner last week. He had a thin face and slanted eyes, and though he was shorter than Akaashi, something about him was far more insidious. 

“Hello. My name is Akaashi,” he began with a small bow, slightly on edge with the man’s snake-like eyes on him. “I suppose I will be setting to you for the time being.”

“I guess so.” The man smirked, showing stark white teeth that looked oddly like fangs. “My name’s Daishou Suguru. So you’re the new friend that Kuroo talked about.”

Akaashi bristled slightly at the mention of the cat-like man. “I would not necessarily consider us friends.”

“Oh, is that so?” Daishou took a step forward, looking the taller man up and down. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common. I can’t stand that rooster-haired bastard.”

Despite how Daishou’s gaze made his skin crawl, Akaashi found himself chuckling at the description. 

“Why do you and Kuroo-san not get along?” he asked, glad that there was at least one other person who was wary of Bokuto’s friend. 

“Don’t even get me started or we’ll be here all night,” Daishou responded. He looked up at Akaashi with a sly smile. “How about we grab something to eat after practice, and I’ll tell you all about it?” 

~

The locker room was just as loud and boisterous as it had been at Akaashi’s high school, and he was glad everyone seemed too distracted by their own conversations to notice his struggle to peel Suga’s shirt off his torso. After a quick shower, it was a relief to be back in his own sweater and jeans. It had been kind of Sugawara to lend him a set of spare clothes, but Akaashi definitely would not be repeating that experience anytime soon.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice echoed off the walls of the locker room now that the majority of the space had emptied out. He turned to see that the owlish man had just finished changing as well, a wet-haired Kuroo and Kenma at his side. “Do you like pizza, Akaashi? We were thinking of ordering a couple boxes when we got to Kenma’s house. I’m okay with everything except pineapple, but if you like it then maybe I’ll give it another chance.”

“I apologize, Bokuto-san,” the younger man responded, looking away so he didn’t have to face the disappointment that would surely cross Bokuto’s face. “I already agreed to have dinner with someone else.”

“Oh. Um, who is it? I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was just wondering ‘cause you didn’t mention it before practice. Not that you need my approval or anything! But, um, I guess I just—”

A slick hiss of laughter interrupted Bokuto’s stammering, and they all turned to see a certain snake-like man appear from behind the back row of lockers. 

“Don’t get your undies in a twist, Owl Boy,” Daishou said, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. “I’ll be sure to take good care of Akaashi-kun.”

Kuroo’s head whipped up from where it had been resting on top of Kenma’s, his eyes narrowing in on Daishou with a grimace. 

“No fuckin’ way,” he challenged, shaking his head. “No way we’re letting you taint Akaashi with your scaly little serpent hands.”

“Relax, Pussy Cat,” Daishou defended, raising his palms up in a gesture of innocence. “I was just going to take him to get a bite to eat. What are you in the mood for, Akaashi-kun? There’s a nice ramen shop just a short walk away.”

Akaashi glanced over at Bokuto, who had fallen oddly silent despite the highly charged atmosphere. The owlish man was looking down at his shoes, shoulders slumped over in a stance that made him look almost as short as Kenma.

“Ramen sounds great!” Kuroo answered for him, forcing a smile onto his lips. “Bo, Kenma, and I will join you!” 

“Hard pass,” Kenma responded, already turning to leave the locker room. “I’d rather not witness a pissing match between you and Daishou.”

“Okay, then. It’ll just be the four of us.” Kuroo aimed a smug wink at Daishou, who looked like he wanted to strangle the taller man. Before the tension could grow too unbearable, Akaashi spoke up.

“Do you like ramen, Bokuto-san?” 

The man in question raised his head hesitantly, as if he expected Akaashi to take back the words at any second. 

“Yeah…”

“Would you like to come with us, then?” Akaashi encouraged. He wasn’t exactly sure what the history was between Kuroo and Daishou, but he would definitely feel better if the owlish man was there to help him if a fight broke out. Also, he found he just really wanted to spend more time with Bokuto.

“Really, Akaashi? I’d love to go! I haven’t had ramen in ages!”

“Fantastic!” Daishou jeered, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Are there any other uninvited guests who would like to tag along?”

“Hmmm, I don’t think so,” Kuroo pondered, scratching his chin. “Unless you count yourself.”

Bokuto had to intervene before Daishou could lunge for Kuroo’s throat, meanwhile the cat-like man howled in grotesque laughter.

Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

~

Scratch that. It had been a _terrible_ idea.

They’d only been sitting in the ramen shop for five minutes and Akaashi could already feel a headache forming in his temples. Kuroo and Daishou had bickered the whole way there, and their argument continued into the restaurant despite the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

“At least I can keep my damn tongue in my mouth.”

“Why do you keep bringing up my tongue, Tetsurou? If you’re trying to flirt with me, it’s definitely not working.”

“Who would want to flirt with a snake bastard like you? Not even Mika could deal with your filth anymore.”

“Eat shit, Kuroo.”

“Wow, Suguru, do you use that mouth to kiss your mother?”

“No, but I’ll use this foot to kick your—”

The table fell silent as a waitress came by to take their orders, and Akaashi exchanged an awkward glance with Bokuto from across the table. 

“Hey, hey, why don’t we talk about something else!” the owlish man piped up once the waitress had left. “Like, um… like Akaashi’s first day at work!”

“Yes, how rude of us to leave Akaashi-kun out of the conversation,” Daishou agreed, seeming to switch gears as he turned to address the younger man. “Where does an exchange student find work in Tokyo?”

“The university coffee shop,” Akaashi responded, relieved that the arguing had been halted for the time being. “My first day was fine. Thank you for asking, Bokuto-san.”

“You mean the shop with all the hot baristas?” Daishou asked, leaning one elbow on the table. “I’m not surprised Oikawa hired you. You’re the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Didn’t Mika just break up with you a week ago?” Kuroo taunted. “You really don’t hold back on these rebounds, man.”

“Shut it, Rooster.” Daishou turned back to Akaashi with a fanged smile. “So how about it? Let's go back to my place and—”

“ — and he’ll show you his three inch _snake_ ,” Kuroo finished.

Daishou looked ready to explode as he whipped around to face the taller man. This was getting out of control, and it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose. Akaashi tried to reign in the conversation before it was too late. 

“Daishou-san, I would really rather not talk about—”

“Akaashi doesn’t want to go out with you!” Bokuto interrupted, golden eyes locked on Daishou’s. Everyone at the table seemed to be stunned by the sudden exclamation, even Akaashi himself. 

Eventually the silence was broken by Daishou’s hissing laughter. 

“How would you know what he wants, Owl Boy.”

“Because! Because, um…”

“Because?” Daishou leaned across the table with an amused smirk. “Because you know him _oh so well_ after only a couple weeks? Or is it because of something else? Maybe you just don’t want to admit that your little friend might not be into a bird brain like you.”

Akaashi’s eyes narrowed at the snake-like man, a myriad of curses flying through his head as he opened his mouth to retaliate. But before he could get a word out, Bokuto stood from his chair, chest puffed out in determination. 

“I know Akaashi doesn’t like you,” he stated with a triumphant grin, “because he kissed me yesterday! So _you_ can eat shit, Suguru!”

The table fell silent along with Akaashi’s heart. He felt the color drain from his face as three sets of eyes turned to gawk at him. They sat like that for an agonizing five seconds before Kuroo turned to Bokuto with a hand raised for a high five.

“Yes! Get it, bro!” he cheered, clapping the owlish man on the back. Meanwhile Bokuto was frozen in place, eyes wide as he realized his mistake. 

“No way.” Daishou shook his head. “No way he kissed you. He’s a liar, right, man?”

Akaashi said nothing. He barely even felt the painful bend of his fingers beneath the table.

“I mean, it was just a kiss on the cheek,” Bokuto backtracked, trying to catch Akaashi’s eyes. “It probably didn’t even mean anything!”

“Um, excuse me,” Akaashi mumbled, grabbing his backpack from the floor as he stood. He had never been so embarrassed in his life, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to disappear. Unfortunately, the closest he could get to invisibility was darting out the restaurant doors and onto the crowded sidewalk outside. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, but surely there had to be a bus stop close by.

“Akaashi, wait!” A boisterous voice carried over the crowd, making Akaashi wince. He considered taking off down the sidewalk, but he was far too tired for that. Besides, Bokuto surely knew these streets better than he did and he would get caught eventually. The best course of action was to face the owlish man, though he would have rather crawled into a manhole and died of embarrassment.

Mentally preparing himself for whatever awkward conversation was about to take place, Akaashi stopped to wait for Bokuto to catch up. The owlish man wasn’t far behind, and he grasped at Akaashi’s jacket sleeve as if he were actually going to try to escape. 

“Akaashi,” he huffed, seeming more apprehensive than out of breath. “I’m really sorry!”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi stated, not meeting the other’s eyes. “It’s my fault. It was inappropriate for me to kiss you last night.”

“No, that wasn’t the problem!” Bokuto shuffled them nearer to one of the storefronts so they were no longer blocking the sidewalk. “I didn’t mind the kiss. I just— I don’t think that Daishou is right for you! I mean, he just broke up with his girlfriend and all, and he probably just wants to make her jealous.”

“I gathered that much myself.” Akaashi folded his arms in front of him. “I’m just a pretty face, right?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Akaashi!” the owlish man defended. “I’m really sorry me and Kuroo ruined your date. If you want, I can go back in there and tell Suguru I was lying about the kiss. He would probably believe it.”

“It wasn’t a date, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi finally met the other man’s eyes, wanting to make his intentions perfectly clear. “I do not like Daishou-san. He’s not my type.”

“Oh.” They both fell silent as the crowd continued to stream in both directions around them. Akaashi could tell that Bokuto wanted to say something else, but for some reason the words failed to come to fruition.

“Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” 

“Oh, yeah! I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my apartment and watch a movie,” Bokuto explained, catching Akaashi completely off guard. How could his mind jump from place to place like that? He supposed it wasn’t too surprising considering the man’s drastic mood swings, but it still seemed like a rather sudden suggestion.

“We have class in the morning,” Akaashi countered once he’d fully processed the question. “It would be unwise to stay up late. It’s important to get eight hours of sleep every night, especially after prolonged physical exertion.”

“Akaashi, you sound like such an old man!” Bokuto groaned, grabbing the shorter man’s hand and dragging him in the opposite direction of the bus stop. “We can order pizza then go straight to bed if you want.”

“But is it okay to leave Kuroo and Daishou at the restaurant?” Akaashi questioned. He didn’t even want to imagine the fight that surely broke out at the table after he and Bokuto had left.

“Yeah, they’ll run out of insults eventually and go home.”

“Why do they hate each other so much?”

Bokuto shrugged, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that his best friend was probably close to starting a fist fight in the middle of a ramen shop. “Who knows?”

The rest of the walk to Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment was spent in silence— or at least as silent as Tokyo could be at any given time. Akaashi was thrown off by the other man’s lack of conversation, though he couldn’t think of a way to ask what was wrong without seeming nosy. So he just let the silence carry on, twisting his fingers nervously in front of him. 

It wasn’t until they entered the apartment, the door slamming shut behind them, that Bokuto spoke up again. 

“Akaashi, I feel like we should probably have some sort of deep conversation before I do this, but I don't know what to say so I'm just gonna do it. Feel free to punch me if you want to stop.”

“Bokuto-san, I don't know what you're talking abo—”

He was cut off when two large hands cupped either side of his face and a pair of soft lips pressed against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to apologize for the obscene amount of cursing in this chapter because it was so fun to write. I promise I don't actually hate Kuroo (but Suguru definitely does lmao). 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! If you have any questions, feel free to ask through my tumblr: cleonali.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
